Who Knows
by DietzZ
Summary: Kim Connweller's life has been the same old boring thing since she can remember. But then Jared Sexy Pants is suddenly healed of his mono and can't stop staring at her. Not that Kim minds. But things in her life are changing, and she doesn't like it. Maybe he can help her out. Or maybe she'll try running him over in her friends Dodge Neon. Who Know? Kim certainly doesn't.
1. A Day In the Life Of Kim

Chapter One:

A Day In the Life of Kim

Spring Break was over, and Jared Cameron still wasn't at school. The seat at our double desk we've shared all year was still empty. Not only did it mean that I had to do every question on my own, with no hope of help, I also didn't have anyone to drool over in my hour(s) of boredom. There was absolutely no other guy on the whole Rez as good looking as Jared Cameron.

A piece of paper hit me in the face. Awesome. I rubbed me cheek bone, not because it hurt, but because I was trying to half cover my face in case someone was looking at me. A crushed up little ball had landed right on my work sheet. We were in History right now, and since we had turned in our Essays from Break, we were just watching a movie, with some mundane worksheet that Mrs. Carter probably whipped up in five minutes this morning.

I looked around and everyone was doing what they usually did on Monday. Sleep, talk quietly to their desk partner, or those rare few losers that actually did their worksheet. I was staring at my own fully completed worksheet. Sigh. Everyone seemed to be paying attention to what they were doing and ignoring me. Not very different from any other moment in my life thus far.

Except Chelsea.

She was chewing on a mechanical pencil, smirking like the freaking Cheshire Cat. I rolled my eyes, extra exaggerated so she could see it through the dim TV light. She tilted her head at the paper ball, urging me to open it. It was a huge chunk of her unfinished worksheet, and on the back was written; _'Stop being a pouty bitch. I saw Jared Sexy-Ass picking up homework this morning. Your stalker powered mind can rest for now.' _The note ended with a really detailed smiley face with hearts for eyes and the tongue sticking out. I think it was suppose to be me.

When I looked up, her shit eating grin had reached astronomical proportions. I glared and mouth 'Screw you'. That only made her smile turn into a real one, making her eyes crinkle around the edges, all her stark white teeth showing. She then turned serious and wiggled her eyebrows provocatively. So we obviously broke out laughing, then realizing we were in the middle of History, tried to stifle it which just made us sound like we were choking. I ducked my head, eyes back on my already completed worksheet and tried to calm my self down.

Dead puppies. Dead puppies.

I glanced up at Chelsea and I could see Jacob Black, her desk partner, looking at her with clear concern written on his face. Which only made me laugh some more.

Rereading the note, I frowned a little. I totally wasn't a stalker. It just so happens that I've had a crush on Jared Cameron since I was like ten. Near the end of fourth grade, when I fell out of the canoe off the coast of James Island, when Chelsea swore she saw something in the water we both leaned over at the same time and tipped the whole thing. We had stayed up late the night before watching some lame, low budget, "made for TV" under water Sci Fi movie about aliens. While Chelsea and our High School canoeing partners were still sputtering around, Jared Cameron and Paul Lahote hauled me into their canoe before I could even register what had really happened. I sat shivering next to the cute boy with dimples while Chelsea was yelling at Paul Lahote to haul her in, as our High School partners were treading in the dark Pacific Ocean trying to roll the canoe right right side up.

I've had a crush on Jared Cameron and his dimples ever since.

Thinking of Paul made me realize that he was missing too. Weird. Maybe it was flu season again. Or the Chicken Pox. Once, in sixth grade, the Chicken Pox were all over the Rez and half of the class was absent for weeks. It was an on going joke at the time that the Pale Faces were trying to give us Small Pox again.

Some of the Elders didn't seem to think it was all that funny though.

The lights were flipped on, even though the movie wasn't over. Class was finished and Mrs. Carter told us to hand in our sheets as they were. Proving my theory that they never held that much importance. I handed mine in and Mrs. Carter gave me a huge smile. I always ended up being a teachers pet. When Chelsea handed hers in, Mrs. Carter looked down at the part missing and Chelsea didn't even bat an eyelash. She just looked nonchalantly when Mrs. Carter gave her an incredulous look.

Which made me start laughing again.

So, we were both laughing when we were walking to the gym. The gym happened to be used as the lunch room too so it smelled both of sweat and food, which then started to smelled like throw up.

Quileute Tribal School was small, and the High School was separate from the Middle School, Elementary and Head Start day care program, which were all closer to the down town area, where as we were pretty much on the edge of first beach. It was a smallish building made from dark stained wood paneling. There was a classic wood painted totem pole out in the parking lot also, just in case the name _Quileute Tribal School _didn't already give us away. It was small and every thing revolved around our American Indian ancestry.

For example, as our foreign language, we were only offered Quileute. Which I always thought was weird because it isn't exactly a foreign language. We had to take art class and it was mostly bracelet making, blanket weaving, drum painting, wood carving or learning and designing clay pots. Music was tribal songs and drum playing, and we were always practicing the dances.

The grades were also small. There was only one class in each grade with only twenty-five to thirty kids in each grade on average. Which was nice since I had every class with Chelsea.

And Jared Cameron.

The school day was like any other day. Classes were always easy, and the few classes when we didn't have a seating chart, I got to sit with Chelsea. Not that I thought the seating charts were bad. Mrs. Carter has done alphabetical by last name since Freshman year, and it was quite convenient for me that nobody came in between Cameron and Connweller.

After class, Chelsea and I walked out to the parking lot, to the stupid 2002 Dodge Neon Chelsea had. We drove to school every day in the rusted bucket on wheels. It had some serious issues and it didn't help that Chelsea drove like drunk Evel Knievel. She always gunned the gas off the start, rolled through stop signs and never went slower then ten miles over the speed limit. I have no idea how she isn't dead yet.

I don't really know how we both aren't, since there's not many places she goes that I don't too.

The music was blaring some radio station that only played the top ten songs over and over. I quickly turned it down when everyone in the parking lot was staring at us.

Chelsea was half way through putting her buckle on and stopped dead. "Quick cock blocking Kimberly!" She whined, loudly and dramatize. So very Chelsea-Esq. "What's your deal?" She finished buckling and turned it back up.

"Everyone staring." I tried to argue over the sound.

She smirked. "Should I flash 'em?"

That's why I loved Chelsea. Everything about her scream confidence. She knew who she was and she wasn't afraid to hide it. She was like my polar opposite.

We both laughed as she pealed out of the parking lot. Cutting off a broken down car carrying Jacob Black, Quil Ateara and Embry Call. They looked on, just staring, their car frozen.

"God, Jacob should shut the hell up about that stupid girl. He just goes on and on and on..." Chelsea was talking, bobbing her head to the music which was pretty much at club volume and glancing at her phone every now and then. While driving. _Chelsea-Driving. _Which was pretty much a thousand times worse.

"Ya, that sucks." I muttered reaching over and grabbing the cell phone. She started to protest, reaching over at me and she swerved off the lane at the guard rail. After she corrected and we both finished screaming, we sat there in silence for a moment. "...I'll just read them out loud for you."

Chelsea nodded, checking her rear view for anyone who might have seen her little stunt. And since we weren't a mile from the school and nothing in La Push was that far away, there was a lot who probably did.

Looking down at the iPhone, there was a text message open. The contact was name Sugar Daddy. Ew.

"Gross. Who is this?" I turned to look at her.

Again she was not looking at the road, fiddling with the radio station because she refused to listen to commercials. She said, many times, that commercials only had one place, and that was the Super Bowl.

I clicked on the contact info to see the number. I was about to just press call and see who answered when Chelsea made a grab for it. "Don't!"

We swerved again but I still had possession.

"Please don't kill us." I reached up and tightened my seat belt. "Just tell me who it is."

I was acting normal, but truthfully I was shocked. I never thought Chelsea would keep secrets from me. We didn't have secrets. They didn't exist between us. They just didn't happened. Period.

"Colton." She mumbled.

I paused. "Colton Pearson!?" It was suppose to be a question but it came out too loud and too direct. It sounded weird coming from my voice.

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

"Eww! He's old." I argued. "He's like nineteen. He wears a wife beater. He has a mullet. He's... yucky."

Truthfully, Colton wasn't_ yucky_, per say. He had non existent eyes, not that I could talk about eyes. But he always had some stupid smirk on and was always drinking, even in the morning. He grew pot, in his house and he had slept with every girl possible around these parts. And he had a mullet. Not nice long hair like Jacob Black and his dad, like nasty, yucky mullet. He was a dirt bag.

She rolled her eyes and tossed her long hair over her shoulder. "Not everyone can like Jared Gigantic Biceps."

Since when did he have gigantic biceps. I knew he was fit, but gigantic isn't really the word I'd use.

Sometimes I wondered what she called me behind my back. If she ever had an opportunity to talk about me when I wasn't around. There weren't that many times that I wasn't around. Maybe I'd be Kim No Eyeballs, or Kimberly Never Talks. Who knows.

I started to read some of their conversation and stopped. There are some things you just can't unread.

"Have you slept with him?"

"No." She said. "Not yet."

I groaned. So that meant she was planning to. Revolting. "When?" I asked, not really wanting to know. But the more I knew the better I could prevent that from happening.

"If it was his way, tonight. But we work."

I looked down and finally read the text. His last message was asking who worked on Monday nights. Chelsea had replied with 'People with Jobs.'

"Did he want you to come over tonight?" I asked, venturing to read some more of the texts. Which happened to answer my question for me. He did. Ugh.

She nodded, fiddling with the radio again. We were passing through the most condensed part of the Rez, which had the younger kids schools and a tiny little gift shop, and the children center with the pool. She was going about forty in a twenty-five zone.

"Can you just slow down Dale Earnhardt Jr.? Its not like we have some place to be." I muttered, annoyed. I did not want to get pulled over. Again. I didn't think she could hear me, so I was a little startled when she replied.

"When did little Kimberly get all sassy?"

I looked over and saw her smirking again, turned away from the road and looking at me. She looked really pretty today. I have always been jealous of Chelsea. Her eyes weren't as small as mine. In fact, as far as eyes went around these parts, her's were amazing. They were bigger and rounder, and her eye lashes were thick and long. Not as long as mine, but she wore mascara so there wasn't much of a difference. Her face was also softer looking, whereas mine was full of cheek bones and angles. Chelsea's lips weren't as puffy as mine, but her's were still full. Her hair was long and tick and mine was butchered off at the chin and thin like an eighty year old woman's. Chelsea was short though, only two inches over five feet. Or so she says, her physical last year said five flat. And she was actually blessed with a women figure, which included boobs and a butt. Whereas I was five-seven and looked like a twelve year old boy.

Not to mention that Chelsea was loud and funny, and I was crippled into silence when place in front of other people.

Sometimes I think that Chelsea and I were only friends because we had to be. Our moms were best friends. We go to school together. We work together. There wasn't any way to not be best friends with her. Chelsea could've been majorly popular, but she spent all her time with me. I always wondered if it bothered her, or if she'd just get fed up with taking care of me all the time.

Which actually made sense for her to be secretly texting Colton Pearson.

We arrived at my house a few moments later. Even though it didn't even take five minutes, we were almost secluded in the woods. Mostly everyone's house was more into the woods, unless they lived in the trailer park, which was smack dab in the center of town. That's where Chelsea lived.

My house was small, one floor, three bedroom, one bathroom. Chelsea parked and got out of the car, walking right into the house, not waiting for me. Nobody locked their doors on the Rez. There was no need. I grabbed my school bag, with the miniscule amount of homework in it. At school we had just turned all our major assignments from break, and it was only Monday. It wouldn't even take me an hour to finish my homework today.

Chelsea was sitting on the couch when I walked in. She had a can of Diet Mountain Dew already open and there was screaming from the TV that was set on Keeping Up With the Kardashian. A normal scene from my life. Chelsea loved diet soda of any kind, didn't matter how many health articles I tried to get her to read. And she was pretty much addicted to any kind of reality TV. I threw the phone into her lap and went to town on my geometry homework. Chelsea sat on her phone, texting and sipping her soda in relative silence. She only spoke to comment on the show, which was more trashy then the garbage I had to take out as apart of my daily chores.

Chelsea's mom worked at night, so she slept during the day. Which is why Chelsea was a my house. My mom worked at the Day Care, and it was a government funded Head Start program, so she actually got paid decently. Not anything amazing, but enough to get us by. My little sister Kayla, was still at school, she was in the third grade. My mom and her got out about the same time, so it worked out pretty well. They wouldn't be home till after four, which by then we would be heading to work.

Both Chelsea and I didn't see our families all that much. Well, I didn't see them on the days we worked. Chelsea just plain didn't see her mom. But she spent a lot of time at my house, and we Connwellers were pretty much her second family anyway. Our moms had been friends for a long time. They both single moms in a tiny town, which brought them together.

Though I always wondered why they weren't friends with Ms. Call, since she had been flying solo at the time, and had Embry, who was in our grade. It might be because she's a snobby bitch. Just a hunch.

When it was only an hour before work, I realized Chelsea hadn't done any of her homework. So I had to wrestle the phone away and change the channel to food net work.

"Aww Kim! You know I hate Ina Garten. She's weird!" Chelsea had fallen off the couch and wedge in between it and an old time-y trunk my mom used as a coffee table because she thought it made her more hipster or something.

I did know that Chelsea hated food network. She loved to eat, and she said it was like making an alcoholic watch a show all about booze. And, in truth, Bare Foot Contessa was a fricken weird show. You should never have the word 'Foot' in a TV show about food. Not to mention the stuff she makes was always weird. Like, who would ever make Balsamic Roasted Brussels Sprouts. I don't care how much crap you put on a Brussels sprout, it will still always be a Brussels sprout.

"I'll change it back once your done." I said.

She whimpered, "But it'll take too long."

I huffed. And then decided to change it to something I wanted to watch. There was a special about cults on Discovery Channel. Chelsea wouldn't whine too much about it.

Chelsea just ended up copying most of my work. I'm not sure why though. She always scored higher then me on tests that had to do with math and science. Though she went out of her way to act like someone off the the Jersey Shore.

Our work uniforms were all black. Black pants and black shirts. I had a pair of black jeans and a sweater. It was cold out. Chelsea on the other hand had a pair of black leggings and a tight black T-shirt. I'm sure it was obvious who got more tips.

As we were zipping up our rain jackets, my mom and Kayla walked in. Kayla immediately hugged Chelsea. She loved Chelsea more then me. They had a sister bond and the only thing I did for Kayla is make sure she cleaned her room when I babysat. My mom hugged me and then hugged Chelsea too, after Kayla had released her.

"Off to work ladies?" My mom asked. It was rhetorical since she knew that exactly what we were doing.

Both Chelsea and I nodded. We put on our rain boots but had to bring other shoes to wear inside. My rain boots were just dark purple, Chelsea's were cheetah.

Mom went to the kitchen, which was connected to the living room, so we could see her putting the groceries away. "Hey girls!" She stopped us from leaving by yelling over her shoulder. "I think Shannon and I are going to come to dinner in a few hours. So just save your brakes."

We both yelled an "Okay," and then I yelled, "I love you." while she yelled, "See you soon." as we walked out. They did that a lot. Come eat dinner with us while we were working. So we could all be together for maybe an hour. Our boss, Stephanie, was usually pretty cool about it. We just couldn't take any other breaks the rest of the night.

When we were walking out, I dropped Chelsea's iPhone on the ground. Luckily it wasn't in a puddle. But the ground was damp all the same, and there was a light, constant drizzle. She just bent down and picked it up while muttering, "Party foul, Kimberly. Party foul."

The drive there was fast. Obviously. It was on the road out of town. Not the one headed up to Neah Bay, the Makah Rez, but the one that went to Forks, then out to Port Angeles and ultimately, just _out_.

There were three different little dinners, two of which were a resort/hotel thing, and the other was a bed and breakfast. They were centered around the Quilayute, which was mostly why people came here. Our kick ass rapids and also the calm floating water. So there was the Quilayute River Resort, two roads over, there was the Three Rivers Resort, and about a block away was the Manitou Lodge Bed and Breakfast. We worked at the the Three Rivers.

Which consisted of us wearing black aprons with a stupid decal with... your guessed it, three rivers on it. We wore it over our black out fits and our black shoes with our hair back, and since we always looked pasted off because were _working_, we looked like a team of Native Goth waitresses.

We only worked Friday through Monday, the days that most people were likely to go out to eat in La Push. So we worked five pm, to closing. In the summer we had way more hours, because of all the pasty white people wanting to buy fake totem poles and masks painted the wrong colors and kayak a river while listening to some made up tail about our legends. We weren't really suppose to tell the Pale Faces about our real ones. They were mostly like the universal American Indian ones like the story of the Raven and all that jazz.

Work was hella boring until my mom, Kayla and a very pissed looking Shannon Baker strolled in. Stephanie nodded at us, giving us the go ahead to sit down with them. Chelsea immediately sat down by Kayla on the end, and I sat across Kayla, next to Shannon. My mom smiled at me and Chelsea while, Shannon started down at her menu.

"So, do you guys ever get mad that we crash your dates?" Chelsea asked, coloring with Kayla on her little kids menu sheet.

My mom rolled her eyes and Shannon smirked, eyes not leaving the page of the menu all on sandwiches. Kayla covered her mouth and giggled, looking at Chelsea like a deity.

There was a long running joke that both my mom and Shannon were secret lesbians. I'm not quite sure where it stemmed from. Maybe from one of our trips to Seattle, we were all sharing a hotel room, and the creepy motel guy at the front desk asked them some lesbian-ish question, like if they wanted a different room for us kids so they could be alone, and when Chelsea wrote a short story in fifth grade on her two mommies. Seriously, we've been joking about them being lesbians forever.

"Chelsea..." My mom started to reprimand her.

She just smiled and flipped her long dark hair. "Oh come on Nickie. Don't be ashamed."

We were all laughing before our drinks arrived. I loved my family. Even if I didn't see my mom that much, or my sister liked my friend more then me, or half my family is just my best friend and her pissy mom. I loved it. It almost made it okay that I didn't have any other friends. That no boys liked me. That I was just stuck in some tiny town, and the only thing that kept it exciting is driving around with Chelsea.

I loved my life, even though it kind of sucked.


	2. A Total WTF Day

Chapter Two:

A Total WTF Day

Chelsea spent the night at my house, because her mom was working last night. Her mom works seven to seven, which means she's gone all night. From dinner time, to Chelsea going off to school. Which means that Chelsea usually spends the night at my house. Often. Kayla loves it. When we don't work they stay up and paint their nails bright pink and watch Disney movies.

But last night we did work. Which meant we got home, it was almost eleven and we snuck in because Kayla and my mom were still sleeping. We both showered and laid in my bed, lights out but not sleeping. We were talking about something at the restaurant, but we had a lull in our conversation at about midnight. Which, I then thought it meant we were going to bed. But Chelsea rolled over facing me.

"I think I'm going to go over to Colton's house after school tomorrow." She spoke nonchalantly, but I felt like I was about to barf.

She was totally going to sleep with me. Yuck. I still thought he was a sleeze ball, and Chelsea could do way better. But all I said was, "'kay."

I could see her smile a little in the moon light. "Thanks. I'll try and be back before Nickie and Kayla get home, but if not, will you just cover for me?"

It was silly for her to ask. She knew I would cover for her in any situation. Even if I didn't like what she was doing. Like right now. Chelsea knew I didn't like Colton. But Chelsea and I were different then normal friends. In any other situation, the best friend would bitch about how nasty the guy was, probably just because she felt left out. But Chelsea and I were much more advanced beings then that. I didn't have to say anything, and I knew Chelsea would later sit on the couch with me, watching Discovery Chanel and not whining about it with a bucket of my favorite ice cream.

We had many unspoken deals, and this happened to be one of them.

I nodded anyways and then we fell asleep.

I woke up to my iPhone blaring an alarm that sounded like Spongebob's fog horn. I startle awake and accidentally hit Chelsea, who was snuggling me, as per usual. She doesn't move. Which is also, usual. I turned it off as soon as possible and sat up, rubbing my eyes. I know I have to wake up Chelsea, because she takes longer then me to get ready but I just sit there for a moment. Basking in the silence.

I'm tired. I don't want to get up. I don't want to go to school. Its cold out. I groan, loudly. Then huff. I stop my mini tantrum to shake Chelsea. She just makes some funny noise and buries her face deeper in the blanket. I shake her again, and she just keep sinking into the covers. Suddenly I'm full on rattling her cage, blanket thrown to the way side, and she's just sitting there in her tank top and panties, letting me shake her. I can tell she's awake, but she's still laying there with her eyes closed.

"I'll drink all the Trop 50 if you don't get up." I threaten.

That gets her up.

Chelsea is under some impression that if you drink diet juice, it'll make you thin. Trop 50 has fifty percent less sugar then regular juice, but if you chug the whole thing, it's still a lot of sugar calories. I've tried to explain this to her, but she doesn't really care.

We eat a breakfast of poptarts and low sugar orange juice, and Chelsea takes almost an hour to get ready after that. She wears a lot of makeup. I do too, but it doesn't take me that long. I remember when I was in middle school, all makeup made me look like a little kid playing in their mommy's bathroom. That was until Chelsea got a hold of me.

Then she always took time to straighten her already straight long dark hair.

"Please don't rub it in that you have amazing hair and you made me chop all mine off." I mumbled as she started to straighten the same piece over and over.

Chelsea rolled her eyes and unplugged it, so my house didn't get set on fire while we were at school. "You know why you had to cut your hair." She said as she sprayed her own down with hairspray. "Don't be mad at me."

I don't know why I had to cut my hair. I know the reasons she gave me as she drug me into the salon in Port Angeles a few months ago. But that's it. Not that I blame her. Truthfully, with my thin hair, it would be silly to grow it long like Chelsea's, and even though I don't want her to be right, it's chin length did give it some more body it desperately needed.

Really, I just wanted to have Chelsea's hair. It was thick like a horse tail and long and just gorgeous. I knew that wasn't going to happen, and even though I could address that in my mind, it didn't mean I was going to stop wanting it. I am just a teenage girl. Give me a break.

"Your a bitch." I mumbled.

She just smiled at me.

Chelsea was wearing the same pair of jeans she had on yesterday, because she hadn't gone home. She was still wearing the tank top she wore to bed but with one of my sweat shirts over top of it. I was wearing almost the same exact thing, but we looked vastly different. My sweat shirt was small on Chelsea so you could still see her curves through it.

Most kids a QTS wore this same outfit, except for the guys who just had to wear tight T-shirts even though they had no muscles, or the girls who tried to wear tight, short clothes and act all aloof about it but still ended up looking like sluts.

Sometimes that was Chelsea...

We hopped in the devil's vehicle and drove like we were in a movie chase. We got to school in mostly one piece. Our arrival was much different from our departure yesterday. The radio was still turned on, but it wasn't blasting, and we weren't signing. Chelsea looked like she's about to pass out right in her steering wheel. I feel about the same. We both aren't morning people, and it looks like all the energy from our "healthy" breakfast was long gone. Guess we should've drank full sugar orange juice.

Our first class is English with Mrs. Pelletier. It's my favorite class. But Chelsea is sleeping face down in her creative writing notebook. I have to elbow her awake every time Mrs. Pelletier comes near us or looks in our direction too long. Every time she comes back to consciousness, she makes a funny noise that vaguely sounds like a whole farm of animals. Some people are staring, but when Chelsea is coherent, she doesn't mind. She never minds.

As I am self consciously looking around at everyone staring at Chelsea from her last animal sound, I notice that Jared Cameron isn't here. Again. I noticeably frown and Chelsea notices. I guess she wasn't quite asleep yet. She looks at me questioningly, an eyebrow raised. When I didn't answer, she sat up fully.

"Whats going on?" She asked. It was a whisper. Though more like a stage whisper because she was just so naturally loud.

I looked around, making sure nobody else was around to listen. They obviously weren't. Chelsea was being quiet, or her version of quiet, and nobody payed attention to me without her doing something.

"Jared Cameron still isn't here." I tried to mumbled it enough to where it didn't make sense anymore, but Chelsea still heard me. She always did.

She busted out laughing. Even tilting her head back and leaning her chair onto two legs. Everybody was staring now, even Mrs. Pelletier. My huge cheek bones were probably beet red. Chelsea was still care free, acting like a drugged out Hyena right in the middle of our English lesson.

"You actually call him by his first _and_ last name?" She let out between giggles.

Mrs. Pelletier walked over and looked at Chelsea, obviously pissed off. "Is there something the matter Ms. Baker?"

Chelsea sobered up when she realized she could probably get into trouble. Not the she usually minded. But she did have plans after school today.

"No Ma'am, just reading some of Kim's writing samples." She smile at me. "There amazeballz."

Mrs. Pelletier started beaming at me, somehow not bothered by the made up work; amazeballz, then started a full on lecture on the power of writing. Chelsea still occasionally chuckled now and then muttering "Jared Cameron" under her breath as she wrote, whatever it is that she wrote. I never really knew what Chelsea was really writing about in creative writing. It was always something sad though, from the glimpses I got.

When class was over, we walked in a mashed up group to Geometry. It rotated with Chemistry, so we only had them every other day. Like English and Creative Writing. Though Mrs. Pelletier taught both, Mr. Fuller taught Geometry and Mr. Benson taught Chemistry.

It might've been that we were on the way to Chelsea's secret favorite class, or she was finally waking up or what I said was actually funny, but she was coming alive again. She wouldn't stop talking now.

"What happens if you guys actually date. Are you going to keep calling him Jared _Cameron_?" She snickered. "'Oh, Jared _Cameron_, come in and meet my lesbian moms.' Or 'Jared _Cameron_, your so good in bed.'" She started laughing, as she was pretending to be me.

I wanted to know why my voice sounded deep like an mans.

As she was yelling "Jared Cameron, Jared Cameron!" In my supposed man voice, Paul Lahote showed up standing right behind her. He looked bemused.

He also looked gigantic. He was a good five inches taller then before. Head shaved. Muscles rippling. He was wearing a T-Shirt and shorts. He looked like he had just stepped out of a Mr. Universe pageant. What the hell? You don't get mono and miss weeks of school and come back looking amazing. That just doesn't happened.

"Someone have a crush, _Chelsea Baker_?" He asked, sounding out her whole name also.

In that situation, I would have just died. Right there in the middle of the hallway. People would probably step around or over me to get to Fuller's class. Though, I would have never been screaming Jared Cameron's name down the hallway in the first place.

It turns out, Chelsea didn't fall down and die on the low cut carpet that might as well been linoleum flooring. She smirked at Paul Lahote, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Jealous Paulie?"

She was making casual conversation. Did she not notice the fricken difference in _Paulie_. WTF?!

That's when someone walked into me, making me stumble back a few steps. When I looked up, it looked like Paul's clone. Ridiculously tall, buff, deep voiced, shaved head. His back was to me and I could see his muscles through his shirt. It was tight and white.

"Come one Paul. Lets go to class." The guy said.

Then I heard it. The voice was different, but I would know that voice anywhere. Jared Cameron. He was back and looked like he was doing steroids. Both him and Paul did. They got sick for more then three weeks and come back looking like they were doing drugs the whole time. WTF. WTF. WTF. WTF.

Paul looked at Jared disdainfully, like he didn't like him all that much. Which would make sense since they hadn't been friends since that big fight in middle school which had gotten them both suspended. But Paul shrugged it off, which is insanely weird for Paul to do, and walked into Fuller's geometry class.

Jared was back. Oh my God. I felt like jumping right into the freshmen per-algebra class and hiding till the end of the day. But Chelsea rolled her eyes and grabbed my arm. She pulled me into the class and we sat down in a desk in the center of the room. Jared and Paul were a few chairs back, and they were sitting together.

This was Chelsea's turn to actually work, though she did it secretly. She would still whisper and pass notes during class and make fun of how stupid it was, but the whole time Fuller was talking, she would pay attention. And she always read along in her text book. I did too, since that's what I always did in class, but the new presence of Jared Cameron was seriously distracting. I wish Jared sat with his old friends, who were pretty much next to us. Then I could see his face. I hadn't seen it clearly yet.

Oh crap, maybe I am a stalker.

Chelsea wasn't as aware of me during Geometry, so I could think about Jared and his new muscles and his new friendship with Paul by myself without her asking me what was wrong every few seconds.

Something was weird. Something was seriously weird. Why was nobody else freaking out about it like I was. Oh, probably because I was the only obsessed stalker in our school. I sighed, and Chelsea only briefly looked up from her work sheet of triangles.

I made a funny face at her and she made one back, then she went right back to her assignment. I knew she made sure to do it slowly, she looked over at the other kids, and let about five other students turn in their assignments before she got up to do it. Then casually turned her book to the next chapter and pretended to rest her face on her fist, eyes down, faking boredom as she read the next lesson.

I wasn't exactly sure why Chelsea didn't want people to know she was smart. We both had daddy issues, and Chelsea turned her self into a quasi-slut who only knew how to flirt with boys and act the part of a dumb blonde, where as I couldn't talk to any boy at all, and only focus on the one boy that was for sure to never even glance in my direction. We both had issues. Which is probably why I let her keep her writing journal a secret and she let me crush on Jared Cameron form afar with little annoyance and I tried to do the same for her when she wanted to sleep with losers like Colton Pearson and his dirty mullet. We couldn't fix each other but we can support each other. I will continue to let Chelsea act like a mindless girl during geometry and not ask to read her writing journal.

Now that's true friendship people.

After Geometry was either Quileute Art, or Quileute Music/Dance. Today was art. Thankfully. Nothing worse then doing the fish dance in front of twenty-five other kids. Or singing for futility. Painting totem poles or making macrame ancient love bracelets beats that that dancing crap any day of the week. Maybe I was just pissy because I am tone deaf and have no rhythm. Not that I'd admit to it. Chelsea also smiled when she realized we were doing art. She was actually kind of a good dancer, but singing also escaped her. Not that she minded in the car. She didn't really mind in the middle of class either, but she definitely like the art class more.

We started paper mache balloons today that would turn into masks later in the week that we would decorate. We've done this a thousand times but we got right to work.

And after that was lunch. Ahh lunch. The time where Chelsea and I sat on the floor of the gym, up against the back wall and ate food that was probably not for human consumption. At least it tasted like it. Chelsea and I talked about everything and nothing like usual. We mostly talked about all the other people in school.

"Did you see Mary is those pants. They were so tight I saw the out line of her cellulite." Chelsea mumbled through and rock hard roll from her trey.

Chelsea owned almost the same exact pair of pants.

"Holy cow can Embry Call even speak?" I said back, picking at my salad with wilted leaves.

He spoke more then I did, and he was actually funny.

"Did you just say holy cow?" Chelsea asked. I nodded and we both laughed.

Now it was time for history. And I felt like I was going to throw up. I had to sit by new Jared Cameron. The one with a deep voice, ridiculous biceps, probably over six and a half feet tall and no hair. I think that's the part the bothered me the most about this whole thing. The no hair. Seriously. He had amazing hair. I have spent many a night dreaming about that hair.

I sit down and wait. I didn't see him and lunch, he might've left to eat outside or something, though I have no idea why because it's raining cats and dogs out there. I doubt he'd just leave school early, since he's been gone so long. Mrs. Carter walks in and announces were watching a movie again, and starts passing out the worksheets. That's when I frown when I realize that he probably wont be here again. I look up and see Chelsea pretending to listen to Jacob Black, who seems to be working on some monologue, he's been talking so much. Its like he can't even pause to breathe. He doesn't even notice when Chelsea turns to face me. She gives and sad smile and casually pretends to shoot herself in the side of the head. Jacob is still clueless and talking.

I nod and point at my self. "Ditto" I mouth to her. We both smile, though I can tell that there not real ones. We're at school. Real happiness doesn't belong here.

"Oh, good to see you too. A little tardy but that's all right. Take your seats please." Mrs. Carter speaks over the noise of the class.

Both Paul and Jared and standing in the doorway, looking drenched, which means they were outside. And I notice that they're wearing each others shirts. I look at Chelsea and she looks at me curiously too. Good, so I'm not the only one who noticed this time.

"Please get the light Mr. Lahote." Mrs. Carter asked turning on the TV.

Jared came down and sat right beside me, not even looking at me. His shirt was definitely dark blue, not white. And Paul was wearing the white T-shirt, going in the back to sit by Mary Linehan who looked like she was about to die, sitting next to Paul and all his muscles. Paul seemed to not notice her, just looking at Jared, bemused. Jared wasn't looking at anyone else either, just glancing back at Paul and laughing occasionally. That's when I noticed they were passing notes.

The first line said '_Dude, your wearing my shirt._' It was probably Paul because it didn't look like Jared's hand writing. Though with everything else that changed about him in three weeks, I guess hand writing could be one of them.

Omg! Hold the damn phone. They're gay!

Not that I had a problem with gay people. The making fun of our mom were just a joke. But I did have a problem with the guy I've like for six years turning out to be a homo. I mean, that's not fair! Of all the mean things life had in store for me, why this one? Why?!

In Jared's hand writing said '_No man, your wearing my shirt._' Wow, exciting stuff.

Aww God they're gay!

They passed back and few more until I heard a snap. I looked over and Jared, who had been laughing as he wrote was now holding a broken yellow pencil. He had written '_Its your fault that were late. If you didn't take so long_-'

Maybe its good that the pencil broke then. I don't think I could've taken what he was going to write next. I seriously felt like I was about to cry.

Jared turned to me. "Uhhhh..." He looked down at my paper were I had written neatly at the top, Kim Connweller. "Kim. Do you have a pencil I could borrow?"

He didn't even know my name.

The gay love of my life for six years in a class of twenty-something kids where we've shared a seat all year long didn't know my name. Just shoot me in the face now. Please.

I realized he was just staring at the side of my body, since I was still facing the TV. "Yeah, I guess." I muttered reaching into my bag. How long had I wanted this? And now that it was here, it felt like a huge let down. Just like the rest of my whole life. Why did I think this would be any different?

"I only have a pen, sorry." I said in the best un-sorry voice I could muster.

"Thanks" He said finally looking up at my face and he just stopped. His hand still reaching out to grab it from me. He was just frozen, staring at my face. Seriously. WTF is going on around here. He was still staring, and I was wondering if his arm was getting tired. I just set the pen down on the desk next to his unfinished note. He still didn't move.

"Uh, are you okay?" I asked quietly, so I wouldn't draw attention from anyone else. This was enough. More then enough. A thousand times more then enough. Too much.

"Your names Kim." He said.

Awesome.

I nodded my head. "Your Jared." Was the smartest thing I could come up with. I was literally about to face palm myself. Good going Kim.

"Did you just cut your hair." He asked. His arm was finally down, but he was competely turned in his chair. Just staring at me. Were we having a staring contest that I didn't know about? Did he even know how to blink?

I sighed. "Three months ago." I turned back to the TV. I had a sheet to fill out that didn't matter. The story of my life in a nut shell.


	3. Semi-Amazing Football Tackle

Chapter Three:

Semi-Amazing Football Tackles

Carter's class was the most awkward hour of my entire life. And I live with Chelsea Baker, so that's saying something. Jared just kept staring at me. That's all he did. He seriously just stared. The whole class time. After giving him the pen, and the name exchange, and me wanting to kill myself, I just turned in my seat and went to town on that worksheet. I answered every question with the longest answer possible. I even got out a scratch piece of paper to draft the longest answer. I was doing anything to preoccupy myself from Jared Freaking Cameron just staring me down.

I have never been so happy for a class to end. The lights flipped on and I ran to Mrs. Carter's desk like I was on the track team. When I handed mine in, Mrs. Carter's smile was larger then usual. She must've noticed my worksheet and mistaken if for brown nosing. Oh well, life could be worse.

For example; a gigantic man could be staring at you like a piece of pie. Oh wait, he was.

Jared was standing right next to me when I turned around to look for Chelsea. I practically jumped with fight and took a step away from, who else, Jared Freaking Cameron. What was his deal? Seriously. This wasn't normal staring, his eyes were stretched open, uncomfortably so, and it looked like he was debating weather to grab me or not, with the way his hands were twitching. Fricken scary.

Chelsea was still at her desk, shoving books in her bag. QTS didn't have lockers. I hated that right now. I rocked back and forth on my heels, pray that she'd _hurry the hell up_. Paul walked up to Jared, slowly, trying to catch his eyes to gain his attention. It wasn't working. Paul then glanced at _me_ like I had done something. What the hell could I have done?

It feels like I am suddenly transported into some old black and white episode of the Twilight Zone. Que the music.

When Chelsea took her sweet time handing in a probably incomplete worksheet, and then made her way over to me like her feet were caught in mud, I grabbed her hand and propelled us out of Carter's class and into the narrow hallway. Because of the surprise and her short legs, she stumbled into Embry Call, knocking him right into the ground. I didn't stop to say I was sorry, and Chelsea tried to, but I held on like a vice. Once we were in the hallway, I shoved us into the nearest Girls Bathroom, just in case the new, extremely weird Jared Cameron tried to follow us.

But by the expression he was wearing all of History, I'm not quite sure if a bathroom is enough to keep him out. I prayed silently.

"What is going on?" Chelsea asked, leaning up against a dirty sink that I'm sure use to be white. The school didn't get much funding. She righted her sweatshirt and stared pointedly at me. Ugh, I so did not need more starting.

"Did you see Jared Cameron?" I snapped.

She started giggling a little. "I still can't believe that you actively refer to him by first and last name. That's totally -"

"So not the time!" I cut her off. "This is serious." She just looks at me kind of funny and I groan out loud. "You gotta be kidding me. Both him and Paul have mono since, before break and then they come back to school looking like their on steroids." I pause to let is sink in. But she is still looking at me like I'm the weirdo. "I have a secret for you Chelsea, mono is a sickness. Not something that makes you look better then before you had it."

Her eyes narrowed in a glare. "_I know what mono is._" She snapped.

"So not the point I'm making." I growled. Then I too leaned up against another dirty sink. I didn't really care anymore about the dirty toilet ring look in the dang thing.

"What point are you trying to make then?" Her voice is laced with annoyance. Which I can understand is completely deserved because I threw her in here like a lunatic. I noticed that her bag was missing. Oops.

I stand up straight again, to face her. "Jared Cameron and Paul Lahote are sick for weeks. They come back to school looking like Abercrombie models. Then Jared finally finds out my name since being in school together since kindergarten and then wont stop staring at me all of Carter's class."

Chelsea kind of just looks at me. The skeptic.

Okay, I know it was a weird thing to say, but its true. How could I be the only one whose noticing this?

Her face softens. "Okay, calm down. No need to use your Shannon voice," She referred to her mom by her first name. "Yes its weird that Paul and _Jared Cameron_ look ridiculous, but, remember. That happened to that Sam Uley guy a few months back. You remember? He dumped his girlfriend and started dating her cousin. The one that used to teach Kayla's art class. You know, before she got her shit wrecked by that bear. Which by the way I thought was odd because it wasn't even bear season-"

I cut her off again. "Your just saying its normal because it happened to someone else too. Chelsea! This is _soooo_ beyond normal." She nods reluctantly, letting me know that I might be sort of, kind of right.

Which I am. My triumph of being right must be showing on my face because she looks even more mad then before. If that were possible.

"Well what are you doing to do about it Nancy Drew. Call up the Hardy boys and get your Sherlock Holmes on? There probably just doing drugs. Sorry to say it, but that's not really a new thing here." She snaps.

She's got a point. Which I don't want to admit. But that doesn't explain why Jared thinks I'm an all you can eat buffet with a Don't Touch sign on it.

"Well then Ms. Knows Everything, why won't he stop staring at me?"

"I don't maybe because your so ugly." She says as her turns to look in the mirror at her own beautiful face.

I know she's joking. First off because I know Chelsea. But also because I see she's just smirking in the mirror, looking at me, instead of herself. But I would've known that without looking at her too. Just the perks of living with your best friend. They can insult you and you don't even bat an eyelash.

I frown to tell her it isn't as amusing as she thinks it is.

"Who knows Kim. Maybe he was just stressed out to the max, and the drugs he's been smoking with Paul and the Uley dude have really helped him out and he's finally notice just how damn hot you are."

"Well Chelsea, call me ugly and hot in the same sentence. No wonder you can't keep a boyfriend. Serious mixed signals." I say back, because I don't really know what to say. The conversation has taken a serious detour.

"Why is it easier for you to think that drugs are clouding his mind and he is just in a temporary insanity, then him just wanting to look at you?" She asked, starting to walk out of the bathroom.

I shrug but I don't move. I don't want to go to gym. It's my least favorite part of the day.

"Don't fight it Kimberly." Her voice is coming from the hallway now. "I've never seen a girl so upset about a boy liking her." I start to follow her out because that's not really a conversation I want her yelling from the hallway. "Especially a boy you've been freaking about about since-" I start sprinting out, before she can ruing my life with that atomic bomb. I swear, she's like a small child with a knife when you give her information.

The problem with me sprinting in small public places, is that there happens to be other people that are around. You know, since it's a public place and all. So, as I'm running like Usain Bolt in the 400m, I see Embry Call handing the black book bag to her. She must've dropped it when I made her plow into him like a tractor into untouched farming lands earlier. Problem is, as he's handing off the bag like a baton, I don't slow down and run right into the poor kid. We both sprawl right into the ground and because he's so tall he knocks his head into the wall.

Chelsea lets out a huge shriek, dropping the book bag that Embry had just given her. She hits the floor too, on her knees, her mouth is wide open but she can't seem to say anything after that yell. Finally when her speech returns she yells, "Oh my gosh Embry! Are you okay?"

Jacob Black and Quil Ateara pop around the corner, already dresses in their gym clothes. They see me, laying on the ground next to Embry, and Chelsea leaning over him. "What ya doing Embry?" One of them says coyly. "Guess we should leave you alone more often huh?" The other laughs. I'm not really sure which one said which because it felt like I just shit my stomach out. I was so petrified I could've been in the second Harry Potter movie.

Both Chelsea and I are just watching him to make sure I didn't kill him with my semi-amazing football tackle. When he sits up, completely fine. The only thing that's weird about him is his cheeks that look like cherry tomatoes. And he wont look either of us in the eye. The shy kid just gets up, perfectly fine, and sashays away to his two, much louder friends. They're joking and hitting him on the back, and acting like they normally act.

How the heck did he take a blow to the head like that and just be fine?

Chelsea looks at me with the same question on her face.

"How did he-?"

She cuts me off. "Stop it."

I understand her point. We can only freak out about one thing at a time.

We get to gym and have to change into our clothes with lightning speed since we wasted so much time having a freak out and then trying to kill someone in the hallway. Chelsea looks cute, she puts all her hair in a pony tail but it looks like its teased so it has volume. Her workout clothes look like she stepped out of a magazine add for Nike or Adidas. I look like I'm wearing oversized pajamas.

Were playing floor hockey, and the boys play like its a war, just like it originated. Since we go to a tribal school, they try to tie everything into Native American crap, even floor hockey. Supposedly it started from Native Americans in Canada, and they would play across frozen rivers and whoever scored the first goal won. And whoever lost died. Just the guys who were playing. I guess it was made so not everyone in a tribe had to die. Since those dang Pale Faces were killing them off anyways. They would just adopt all the women, children and wrinkly old people into their tribe.

And by the way, their hockey puck was a piece of horse shit.

Anyways, the stupid boys here play like their lives depend on it, which means I spend all of gym getting knocked over or tripped by some guy willing to kill me to get the dang puck. I can't really get upset since I almost killed poor Embry Call not a half an hour ago, but still. Maybe if the puck was actually horsey doodoo they would be a lot less excited to play.

Chelsea and I spend the entire time on the sidelines, trying to stay out of the way as much as possible. Mr. McGrear gives us dirty looks every time he sees us just standing there but Chelsea doesn't care and I'm having a hard time trying to possess any other emotion other then wonderment for Jared Cameron's new body.

It really sucks that he's possibly gay.

Mary Linehan, who traded off her too small of pants in exchange for too small of gym shorts, is currently trying to talk to him. He's too interested in watching Paul and whispering things at him, probably sweet nothings, though he looks a little too stressed out for that. Plus knocking down random boys quite viciously. I don't notice until the end that they're the boys that have run into me, tripped me, knocked me over or shot the puck at my shins.

I just want to mention, that somehow none of this ever touches Chelsea.

By the end of it, Chelsea and I undress quickly and make our way to our last lesson of the day, which is Quileute language. I mostly day dream in this class and openly talk to Chelsea, because the elders that do this class don't really care unless its a huge disruption. Both Quil Ateara Sr., which everyone on the whole Rez just calls Old Quil, whoes Quil's grandfather, and his mom Joy Ateara. Though I'm not sure why because I'm pretty sure she grew up in Neah Bay. The Makah Reservation. She sounds pretty good with the Quileute, though. And by how much I pay attention in the class she could be speaking Chinese.

Its free seating, so I sit by Chelsea, but the gay lovers decided they need to sit near us too. And by gay lovers I mean Paul and Jared. They sit close together and whisper, like girls. Like Chelsea and I do all the time. It's extremely upsetting. I try to ignore it, but... I don't. Obviously.

"Ya, do you think you could get a ride home?" Chelsea asks, as were just talking about nothing as usual. She says it a little too loud because Jared turns his head over to us and looks like someone told him Christmas was coming early this year. Paul glared at him and looked mildly pissed off. I would be too if my gay boyfriend gets excited about other girls conversations. If I was a giant gay man dating Jared Cameron.

Is it sad that I would change my life right now to a giant, muscular man, just to be Jared Cameron's boyfriend? Even if that meant I would be an active drug user. Because muscles like that just aren't made in nature.

Ugh, I can't believe I just thought that!

"Why?" I ask, though its in a whisper unlike Chelsea's relaxed, loud speech. I look around but Joy is speaking in English, rather loudly at her son. Old Quil looks to have a rather pleased little smile on his weathered face and Jacob and Embry are seconds away from pissing their pants from laughter. Just one of the problems of having your mom teach a class your in I guess.

Oh, the woes of not paying attention in class. Something funny happens and you have no idea what's going on.

"We live the other direction." Yes, she did say we.

"It would only take you like thirty seconds longer." I hiss. "I'm even exaggerating and its still pretty close to the truth."

She smiles. "Please just try."

I huff, loudly. "Why, so you can have more time to get your mack on with some creepy nineteen year old?"

"Colton is twenty-two."

"Twenty-two?!" I shout.

Literally shout. Everyone goes quiet and looks at us. Then my face pretty much com busts into flames from being so hot. I just sit there, silent, and my face glowing like the sun. I'd probably just stay like that, face slowly getting redder, if that were even possible.

Chelsea let out a few fake laughs. "Just practicing our counting. Good job Kim, don't get too excited." Then some more fake laughs.

People slowly went back to talking. Probably about us. I hung my head and wished for death.

"I could give Kim a ride home."

My whole body freezes. Do my ears deceive me, or did my gay, drug using stalkee just offer me a ride? When I look up and see that he did in fact speak, to me, its safe to say that I am no longer wishing for death. I am however, wishing for my vocal cords to come back from the little break they seem to have taken. Seriously, I can't say anything.

"That would be perfect." Chelsea comes to the rescue. Again.

The rest of the class, I don't say anything. I just sit there. I no longer know how to act in this class. Chelsea tries to talk to me again, just about stupid things like what kind of Greek yogurt is the best. She thinks she prefers Chobani. I just shrug my shoulder, and I wish I could just tell her that I don't give a rats ass about her preferences in Greek yogurt. And maybe if I wasn't freaking out inside, I'd tell her to screw the yogurt, those dessert pudding cups made by Jell-o are to die for.

But now is not the time.

After class gets out, I have to remind myself how to walk. Because I'm walking right next to Jared Freaking Cameron. And he's going to give me a ride home, alone. In his truck. Yes, I know he has a truck. That may be a little weird because we've never actually spoken a full conversation before. But screw you.

Actually scratch that alone part. His boyfriend is leaning up against the passenger side door, waiting for Jared.

"What are you doing?" Jared asked.

Paul looked at him like he was stupid. "Getting a ride home." Then he turned his attention to me. "I call shot gun." He was wearing the same smirk that he usually gives Chelsea, or other girls. Never me. At least before now.

I look to Jared, and he has his jaw is clenched. He looks overly angry. "No." He speaks through clenched teeth. I kinda just sounded like he growled. It's probably the Roid-Rage, the effects of steroids.

"What the hell am I suppose to do?" Paul snapped. Guess he has Roid-Rage too.

"Walk." Jared retorted.

Lovers spat. Awkward.

Paul pushes off the side of the truck, hard enough to make the metal groan. He stalks off towards the woods, that if you walk through heads to the Blacks house, but not much else. Since it's shore line mostly that way, theirs either tourists or marshy lad like off of Strawberry Bay, though that's a few miles down. Not really a way to get home.

Jared sees me staring after him. "There's a trail back there." He says.

I know there isn't.

The drive home is weird. So weird. We don't talk the whole time. And even though I'm shy, people just presume that I'm fine with silence. I'm really not. Even though I tell Chelsea often that I would like her to shut up, I really don't. I like talking, I just don't have the ability to do it with most people.

Apparently Jared has the same dang issues.

He just keeps looking over at me and staring. Not weird checking me out or anything like that. He's just looking. At my face, my hair, just looking at me. My house felt like it was in another state away. Since he actually drove like a normal person, it took about five minutes to get there. I guess Chelsea spoils me, because she floors until were in the unpaved driveway.

When we get to the house, I'm about to book it inside and lock the door behind me. Today has been too weird, too out of my norm for me to handle anymore. But my phone vibrates, and I'm just going to leave it, but Jared notices it.

"You have a cell phone?" He asked.

Its the twenty-first century. Yes. I, as well as pretty much everyone else, have a cell phone.

"Yeah," I say, pulling it out. The first things I've said to him since Carter's class and the devastating name thing.

It was from Chelsea. Who was driving. That wasn't surprising. It said _'If he tries to kill you, I guess you can call me.'_ Wow Chelsea, how sweet of you. I angle the phone away so Jared can't see it, but I know he's casually straining his neck to maybe get a glimpse. Suddenly another text pops up. From Chelsea again. It read_ 'But just for that.'_ So no interrupting, you know, unless someone is trying to kill me. How thoughtful. Right after, another comes in. _'And I guess you can text me my cover story too.'_ Before she can text again and endanger some pour person, I finally text back, but all it said was '_Stop texting and driving.'_ I'm real cool with words like that.

After I look back up at Jared, he has his own phone out. Or I assume it's his phone. But that just because he's holding it. If that's anything to go off of.

"Can I have your number?" He asks, reminding me of a puppy with his ears perked up and ready for anything I tell him.

I shrug my shoulder and nod. Words would be utterly useless at this point. I mean take away his freakish growth spurt, and his new found gayness, this really is what I've wanted since I was ten years old. And that's a long time. I'm not like Chelsea, I never found new crushes, and switched them every week. It was only Jared.

I couldn't even speak for a moment and Jared is just looking at me. I briefly wonder if this is just going to be like Mrs. Carter's class all over again, but then I remember that I'm suppose to be giving him my digits. And while I do that I almost accidentally give him Chelsea's. I'm too flustered and I'm afraid I might start stuttering or something equally, if not more embarrassing.

"Okay, I'll text you or call you or something." Jared rambles and I'm pretty sure I could've peed my pants in happiness right then. Thankfully, the universe doesn't completely hate me, and stops that from happening.

I'm so flustered and I feel like I'm going to explode. So I kind of do some weird head nod and bolt out of the truck and run to the door yanking it open and throwing myself in. Almost forgetting to shut it behind me. I make it half way to the couch before I have to double back and slam it. I'm grateful I'm the only one home, so I don't have to explain anything.


	4. Chelsea's Sly Move In

Chapter Four:

Chelsea's Sly Move In

I spend the rest of the afternoon watching TV, drinking diet Mountain Dew, feeling lonely. Which is a really weird feeling for me. Its so weird, that by the time my mom and sister get home I coerce Kayla into watching Sleeping Beauty with me, just so I have someone to sit with for awhile. But my mind is also reeling about Jared. If he's gay, which I'm fairly sure he is secretly, with Paul, of all people. That jackass is such a man-slut and a gigantic flirt. Plus, those two haven't spoken since middle school and their big fight.

Then why would he offer, willingly, to drive me home. He acted excited about it too. He even made Paul walk home. Then he asked for my number. Which he hasn't used yet. But all these things are possibly debunking my gay theory.

The drugs one is still going strong though.

Maybe that's why Paul and Jared are so close now. They do drugs together. It isn't a real friendship, they just have to be close because... I don't know. I don't really know what people on drugs do. Though I could go outside and ask anyone and they could tell me. Drugs are overrunning this place. Whatever there doing, Sam Uley probably started it. He looks just like them, as Chelsea mentioned in our football huddle in the bathroom before gym.

I try to stop thinking about Jared, which is hard. And when I do, I start thinking about Chelsea and what she's doing. Which I really don't want to do. I'm not a prude or anything, but Colton really is not my cup of tea. My cup of anything actually. I'd rather die in the Sahara then drink whatever he is. I don't know why Chelsea is even giving him the time of day. But that's a Chelsea thing. She likes anyone that will be an asshole to her. Don't ask me why, it's one of the few things I don't really understand about her. I'm sure she'd date Paul's dad is she could.

I decided to concentrate on the movie, but it reminds me of when Chelsea and I were little and she said she'd just marry Gaston rather then the Beast, even in the Beast's hot prince body. Which then pulls me back into my earlier train of thought.

I am then rescued about halfway through the movie when Chelsea busted down the door. Then I pretty much shit my pants when I see she's holding grocery bags. I told my mom Chelsea was at school, finishing a project. But with all my heavy thinking, I forgot to text it to her. OMFG.

"Hey Chels, how'd your project go?" My mom call from the kitchen, where she's just been sitting at the table texting someone.

Chelsea looks at me quick with wide eyes. "Uh, good. Good." She says, just waiting for Mom to look up and see her arms full of bags.

"You went to the store too?" Mom asks, finally glancing away from her phone.

Chelsea nods, but it's weird. Even though I know Chelsea's lying, because we both are, I can also see it in the way she talks and moves. She's doing everything, very subtly to not face my mom, answer her as short as possible. Kayla had jumped up to give her a hug and instead of just setting them down she give Kayla a hug while holding them, probably so it takes longer and she can use Kayla as an extra barrier along with the grocery bags.

"I got done early, so I decide to make a quick trip." She's talking as she walks into the kitchen. "Want to help me Kaykay?" She asks Kayla, who immediately says yes and follows after her. I tell myself that Kayla just wants to know whats in the bags. Its hard to admit that she would help Chelsea put away groceries so willingly and I have to talk her into watching one of her favorite movies with me.

I notice finally that Chelsea's hair is up. She had it down today. And its wet. Really wet. Most of her makeup is missing too, like she took a shower. My mom notices.

"Looks like you took a shower." My mom laughs. Chelsea's body freezes, even though my mom is joking. I can here it in her voice.

"It raining really hard in Forks." Chelsea mutters. "Guess who I saw at the store." Chelsea launches into a story about someone my moms knows, which I'm sure she's not even listening to, but its a subject changer, and Chelsea is good at those.

When I look outside, its just light rain, not enough to soak your whole head. Plus Chelsea's clothes aren't wet. But Mom doesn't notice that. I guess it's just a plus of having borderline neglectful parents.

I can see her from the back, set everything down, and put it away. Which is weird. She usually just sets stuff by the door until my mom makes her pick it up. Luckily, my mom is still preoccupied. Whoever she's talking to, I mentally thank. There seriously saving Chelsea's ass, and inadvertently mine as well. Because if Chelsea wasn't a good liar, she would be seriously hating me right now. She might be anyways, but at least were getting away with it.

After a few moments, my mom comes back to reality. "Thanks Chels." Then she's gone again.

When they finish, they come back to watch Beauty and the Beast. Chelsea sits right next to me, and Kayla snuggles up right into her on the other side. Chelsea looks at me with wide eyes, and I know exactly what she's saying, without her saying it.

"I forgot." I whisper as quietly as possible.

She raises an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry." I try to persuade.

She ends up just shrugging her shoulders and watching the movie. It was her way of saying 'no harm no foul', though if she said it out loud it probably would've been more like 'its cool' or 'whatever I guess'.

We don't say anything about what either of us did today. It's not that we don't care. But we don't discuss that yet.

We end up eating frozen pizza for dinner. Though we obviously unfreeze if before consumption. They were part of the stuff Chelsea had got at the store. I don't know what we would've eaten if she hadn't gone to the store, but Mom doesn't seem worried. Though I wonder if she even know what time it is.

After our amazing feast of thin crust Totino's pizza and some Coke Zero (we switch it up sometimes), we sit down to watch some of our recorded episodes of All My Children. Yes, we watch soap operas. Chelsea likes reality TV, I like more interesting things like Documentaries or the History Channel, but when we all get together, we watch the soaps. And the only movies we go see are romantic comedies, sometimes just romances, but its usually too heavy for mine and Chelsea's personalities.

I'm dead center, sinking into the two couch cushions. My mom is on my right, leaning on the arm rest, doing something on her phone. Its angled so I can't see it, so I'm not really sure exactally what she's doing. Chelsea's on the other, with Kayla on her lap. It annoys me, but just because Kayla is nine and gangly and way too big and too old to be sitting on anyone's lap now. That's it.

Since Mom is still here there is no Disney movie, and it doesn't smell like a nail polish bomb just went off. It's quiet.

This is pretty weird. My mom is coherent and still here with us. She usually ventures off to the bar or retires early to "go to bed" - AKA drink in solitude. My mom is pretty much a high functioning alcoholic. She never misses work, but she also never misses a chance to booze it up. I swear she's at the bar more the Mr. Lahote.

Kayla also must not like it, because when Mom insists she goes to bed around eight, Kayla's not buying it. Instead of being like me, Kayla is much like Chelsea and isn't about to go anytime soon. She only decided to go when Chelsea promises Kayla that tomorrow night they'll watch Tangled. Then Kayla only goes when she makes Chelsea promise something else in return, which is that they'll do it in their matching purple Rapunzel pajamas. Which Chelsea of course agrees to. They'll probably braid their hair too.

After my mom and Kayla leave, we watch another two episodes of All My Children, then turn it to Adult Swim and spend awhile watching Family Guy, which is one of our secret favorite shows that we don't tell other people about so we still seem like ladies.

"How was hanging out with Colton?" I asked, my voice a little quieter then usually, on the off chance that someone else in the house might still be conscious.

"You really want to know?" She asked sipping a diet soda.

"I guess not."

She smiles, knowing that's what I would say. "What about you?" She gestures at me with her can. "I see your still alive."

I nod. "I'm pretty sure Paul and Jared are gay, but he did ask for my number."

Chelsea looks like I just slapped her in the face. "Paul is _not_ gay."

"How do you – never mind." I finish, decided that I really don't want to know about that one.

Chelsea gets out her phone. "What are you doing?" I ask her but she doesn't answer me. She just plays on her phone for a moments and sets it back in her lap.

"So Jared Sexy Ass asked your for the digits eh?" She asks elbowing me.

I nod, probably blushing since that's all these huge cheek bones are good for. We sit there, staring at the TV until Chelsea's phone lights up. Its a message for Paul, who is added in her phone with kiss marks and a purple heart. I roll my eyes. She slides it open and only two texts show. The one she just sent, which was _'Are you gay?'_ and then him replying _'You know I'm not.'_

"Told you so." She says looking way too triumphant. I let out an audible sigh. I don't really want to know why she would know that, though it's not that hard to guess. Yes, its true, Chelsea might be considered a slut in some circles. But I have never though about her that way, and least not on purpose.

I gasp when I realize what I wanted to talk to her about before. "Is Colton really twenty-two?"

She nods. "OMG Chels, that's so gross." I hiss.

"Did you just say oh-em-gee?" She asks, looking at me like I'm a weirdo. Like I'm the sixteen year old that slept with a twenty-two year old. I'm not! She is!

"No the point, Chelsea." I hiss. We both are master at subject changers.

She just laughs a little, rolls her eyes and shrugs her shoulders. That's pretty much how Chelsea goes through life. Laughing, rolling her eyes and shrugging everything off. Its carefree and I love it. But not right now. Right now I'm sickened to the core.

"I'm taking a shower." I declare.

She looks at me, like I'm weird again. How are showers weird? "Now?" She asks.

"No, in a few days, that's why I just said it and am walking right to the bathroom. Yes, now." She is still looking at me weird, I huff. "I feel the overwhelming need to cleanse myself. Do you think Pastor Linehan will rebatize me? Maybe some of it will rub off on you." I'm saying all of this as I walk down the hallway.

"I am baptized." She yells back.

"Maybe the water was dirty." I laugh. She does too.

Down my hall is the rest of the small house. On the left is the one bathroom in the house and after that is my moms room. There's a tiny linen closet right at the end that can barley hold hour towels let alone linens. The word linen remind me of Lennon, like John Lennon. So awhile ago, Chelsea and I taped a photo of John Lennon up there. It's the Lennon closet. On the right is my bedroom and on the end, Kayla's. Mine is closest to the living room/kitchen, so it's insanely easy to sneak out. Not mentioning the gigantic window I have in my room.

That thing has some mileage. From Chelsea and I sneaking out and getting into all kinds of trouble. And by that I mean, the mile walk to the convenient store and the tubs of Ben and Jerry's we shared. Were kind of cool like that.

I take my time in the shower, but we don't have much water. I usually go fast so both Chelsea and I can take one, but since it seems she's already take one, I know she wont mind. I use Chelsea's fruity soaps and wash my hair more then once since I don't have anything to do. My homework is finished and when I get out Chelsea is just going to be acting like herself, which can be a lot to deal with and I'm just going to be thinking about Jared. Which I'm not sure I really want to be doing. Its too confusing and I don't understand any of it.

When I actually decided to get out, I walk to my room and Chelsea's in it, with my English homework sitting out. It's already finished. She's copying it down in her own notebook. I see her geometry homework is already complete and my geometry book is pulled out too, so I'll think she copied that also, but we both know that she did it all herself.

I don't feel weird getting dressed in front of her. We used to take baths together as little kids, and I've seen her naked almost as much as I've seen myself naked. The window isn't an issue either, since there's only woods out back And it's awhile through the woods till there's another house. They wouldn't be able to see me. The only thing that bothers me, is that its open. Its chilly on a lady in her birthday suit. As I drop the towel and try to get my underwear and a T-shirt on, our classic pajamas, I hear a wolf howl outside.

"Was that a wolf?" I whisper.

Chelsea looks up. "Kimberly, our school is QTS, home of the _wolves_. You know the legends - were pretty much like those Animorph books everyone was reading in fourth grade. Turning from wolves and all that stuff. Or do you just listen to the ones about Raven." She laughs, the pauses. "Its a bit nipply in here huh?"

"Shut up." I huff and finish getting putting on my pjs. "And BTW I read Magic Tree House in fourth grade."

I sit in bed, right next to her and just sit here until she finishes coping my work. I don't mind. I only pretend to glare at her for a moment but she just smiles. She knows I'm not mad. I'm never really mad, at her at least.

After she's done, she gets ready too. She just washes off her extra makeup, brushes her teeth and takes off her jeans and my sweatshirt.

"Are you going to wear that tank top again?" I ask.

"I brought some clothes from my house. That's where I showered." She looks around. "I must've left it in the car."

She lays down next to me, after turning off the light. I reach over and shut the window. "Was your mom awake while you were there?"

"No."

"When's the last time you talked to her?"

She shrugged.

"Chelsea, you have to talk to your mom sometimes."

"She isn't my mom. She birthed me and that's it. I don't have to talk to her if I don't want to."

They fighting, I guess. Chelsea usually told me when they were. And if she was in a fight with her mom, it made a hell of a lot more sense that she was trying to get Colton Pearson's attention. I'm not sure why but that's just what Chelsea did. She had a bad connotation when men anyways and when she wasn't feeling adequately loved, she went to boys. But ironically they were always boys who weren't very nice, always boys that would just take advantage of what kind of person she was. All boys that could've been like her father.

"Okay." I whisper.

Chelsea rolls against the wall, away from me which is opposite of our usual sleeping arrangement. Its extremely silent now, and that's how I fall asleep. In that rare, cold silence that I never associate with Chelsea. Something had to have happened to her and her mom. Though that isn't odd. They don't get along very well, and never really have. Chelsea's doesn't take well to people telling her what to do, and Shannon doesn't take too well to people in general. I'm not really sure how Shannon and my mom are even friends. Though Shannon definitely acts different when she's with my mom then she is with her daughter. Mom said it was something about Chelsea's dad, but Chelsea absolutely refuses to talk about her dad.

That's one thing we never talk about. It's different with other stuff. If I really wanted to know, she'd tell me. But not about her dad. Never about her dad. I found my dad on Facebook once, he's white with a blonde wife, a blonde son and a blonde daughter that both could be around my age. And they have a golden retriever. The epitome of a perfect family.

Kayla's dad was my mom's last great idea of a boyfriend. She's about as good as picking guys now as Chelsea.

I wake up to the foghorn sound again. I don't know how Spongebob is always so happy. I feel like punching people in the face, or kicking puppies or something down right evil. Its the same battle with Chelsea today. I threaten the Cinnamon pop-tarts and that brings her right around. She takes about a thousand years to get ready, all while downing almost the entire container of the new bottle of Trop 50. I only get one measly glass. She then forces me to go out to her car and get the clothes she got from her house last night. Which sucks. I try to protesting, but we'll be late if she takes any longer restraightening her already straight hair. And I don't want to miss any part of English.

I head out to the stupid car and wrench the back door open to see Chelsea's whole closet dumped in there. Plus all of her hair and make up and her whole shoe collection. Almost everything she owns in several different bags. I take it in one trip, because I'm freezing my ass off. Its deadly silent out except for me, huffing hard from the bags and my purple rain boots squishing in the mud.

Until I hear something else.

I glance over to the woods. Stopping dead in a mud puddle. The woods can be confusing though, especially because the trees are so packed tight. There like matches in a match book. I don't see anything but I hear the sound again. It sounds like a bear. I book it inside, almost dropping a bag, though hanging on, because as I said earlier, I am not coming back out here until were going to school. Bear or no bear. I keep my boots on and run into my bedroom, getting mud all over the wood floor. Well, fake wood floor. Like we could get real wood flooring. I drop all the bags on my floor and see Chelsea just sitting there, waiting for me.

Bitch.

"There's something out there." I say in a hushed tone, like it might hear me talking about it.

"What? The other billions of people in the world?" She asked going through her things that I brought in.

"No in the woods."

She fake gasps. "Something in the woods?" She's picking out jeans and a sweatshirt. She could've worn the same clothes as yesterday and nobody would've noticed. Not that she would because its unsanitary, but I'm just saying. That's pretty much the only things people wear around here. "Could it be those things called animals that live in there?" She's very sarcastic and I just glare.

"Why the hell did you bring your whole closet here?" I ask, changing the subject.

"So I can stop going to Shannon's to get my things." She mutters as her gets her clothes on.

I don't know what to say to that. So I don't say anything. She probably doesn't want to me.

At school, I notice Jared isn't in English. I hold onto hope that he might come later, like he did yesterday, but all through the day I notice he isn't here. I let myself wallow in self pity at gym, because I know he isn't going to show up halfway through gym just to sit through Joy and Old Quil counting to twenty in Quileute and asking us how we are, and were only allowed to reply with fine. Luckily Chelsea isn't going over to Colton's house today and we just drive home. I'm almost glad we get a bunch of homework. At least I'll have something to do.

That's how I spend my afternoon. Letting Chelsea choose the channel, so we ended up watching Teen Mom 2 for awhile and then the Bad Girls Club. All while we do our homework. Then Kayla gets home and demands Tangled. We can only fend her off for so long, and at six, Chelsea changes into her matching purple pjs, braids Kayla's hair and puts on the movie. She spent a good part of the beginning fishtail braiding her own hair, then almost falling asleep at the end.

"Are you hungry?" I asked after she had jerked awake from her head falling off her hand, where it had been resting for awhile. It made a huge red mark on her left cheek.

"Do you breathe air?" She asks, her eyes drooping closed almost right away.

We both smiled. Chelsea was one of those people that didn't understand _full_. Even after a meal she would say 'I can eat.'

I ordered pizza, Hawaiian, since it was Chelsea's favorite and there by Kayla's favorite. And I like any pizza really. It took along time, since it was coming from Forks, so in between the wait, Chelsea made a peanut butter and jelly that both Kayla and I scavenged off of.

Sometime, while waiting for the pizza, I got a text message. Chelsea's head snapped over like a cat, and she was immediately invading my personal space. I'm not even sure I still have personal space since I lived with Chelsea. The message is from someone not in my contacts, so its just numbers. All it says is _'Hey'_.

"Is that Jared's number?" She asks, looking as excited as I feel. Maybe a little more. She kind of looks like Mort off of Madagascar.

I shrug my shoulders but I know that nobody else in the world besides the people already in my phone know my cell number. Chelsea whips out her phone. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Checking if its his."

"You have his number?" I ask, annoyed.

"Kim," She pauses to look up at me. "I have everyone's number."

I shrug. That's almost a true statement. She gets Jared's name up and makes me hold up my phone. The numbers match. We both sequel in excitement. Like little piglets.

"What are you going to say back?" She asks, sounding like were in sixth grade again.

I don't know and I'm just laughing like a looney.

"I know, I know!" Kayla says, getting up from her spot on the floor in front of Chelsea. I hadn't realized she was listening. Both Chelsea and I wait for her to speak. "Just say hey back."

"Profound." My words are dry, but I'm still freaking out with happiness.

"That's a good idea Kaykay. Just keep it simple for now. I like." Chelsea says, hugging her.

I decide to do it, because lets face it, I'm not the one who knows what she's doing here. I think Kayla talks to more boys then I do.

We wait a few moments, all crowded around my cell phone until we get another text back. We all scream as I open it. It just says _'Whats up?'_

"What do I say?" I ask, hyperventilating.

"Tell him your an undercover anent on a secret mission." Chelsea says in a way that she would say 'How stupid are you?' "You tell him what your doing. God Kim."

"What are we doing?" I ask nervously.

"Ugh, give it to me." Chelsea takes the phone away from me.

Now its my turn to scoot closer. She starts out typing_ 'Watching Tangled' _but she stops. We don't want to seem too much like a loser. We decide to go with _'Watching TV'_ instead. '_With Chelsea and my little __sis Kayla, waiting for pizza.' _She turns it to me so I can see it better, even though I watched literally over her shoulder as she writes the thing out. I nod, letting her send it.

Its only a few more moments before he sends back. _'That's cool. Did you go to school today?'_ I'm so excited I snatch the phone back. Chelsea lets me, because this never happens to me. I mean never. Ever. She's letting me have my moment.

I just send _'Yes'_ back.

_'Can I borrow your notes from Carter's tomorrow?'_

_'Yes.'_ I send again because I'm just that awesome with words.

_'Thanks. See ya Kim.'_

I'm half tempted to just say yes again since its almost a habit, but saying _'Your welcome.' _makes a little more sense. So I do.

He doesn't say anything after that. I don't mind. I don't mind anything actually. I don't mind that the Pizza Guy takes an hour after that to get there. I don't mind that he asks for Chelsea's number. I don't mind that we have to watch two other Disney movies before we can go to bed. I don't mind that my mom isn't home yet. I don't mind that Chelsea showers before me and takes all the hot water, probably to get back at me for last night though she didn't even need to take one. I seriously don't mind anything right now.

Because Jared Sexy Pants is possibly not gay, and could possibly be into me, if the texting is anything to go by. And I'll take that with all the possibles any day.


	5. Pretty Sure Jared Is a Gay Wizard

Chapter Five:

I'm Pretty Sure Jared is a Gay Wizard

I could hardly fall asleep at night. Jared texted me. He asked me for my notes. Right after pizza, I spent all night redoing my notes in nice neat hand writing, just so he wouldn't struggle reading anything in my regular script. Chelsea spent the whole time rubbing some weird paste on my face. I had to redo two pages of notes because Chelsea had dropped some on my papers. They made my face tingle and my eyes burn. Long after Chelsea fell asleep, I laid flat on my back, looking over at the window, willing myself to fall to also fall asleep so I could wake up and talk to Jared.

I had these lovely imaginations of us talking, him professing his undying love and us riding off into the sunset on some lovely white horse, then we'll fade off into the distance gazing into each others eyes. I have no idea where that came from. Probably from all those stupid Disney movies Chelsea and Kayla make me sit though.

Truthfully what would happen is I'll shove the papers in his face, he'll say _'thanks'_. Then I'll sound like a mute homeschooler and start making weird noses, trying to say _'your welcome'_. I sighed, praying silently that it wouldn't come to that.

When I did finally fall asleep, I was awoken an hour later by Chelsea having a spaz attack. She was thrashing and shaking and hit me quite a few times. Not that it doesn't happen normally. She sleeps like an over active gorilla. But this wasn't normal. When I tried to wake her up, she was screaming something and bolt right up and ran to the bathroom. When she came back a long time later, she made some weird excuse about having to pee really bad. I'm not expert or anything, but if you have to pee that damn bad, your might wanna get your kidneys checked out. Just saying. That ain't normal.

I knew Chelsea was bullshitting me, but it was three in the morning. I can't really call her out on it now and start a mini episode of Oprah. Especially since she's already formed herself in a ball like she's a Pokemon ready to capture, but she's turned away from me to the wall and scrunched her eyes, like she sleeping. Though I don't know anyone who could sleep like that. Whatever floats your boat I guess.

I finally fall asleep and by the time we have to wake up, its late. My mom and Kayla are getting ready to drive to school and Kayla saw the door cracked open. Which never happens. Chelsea has this really weird thing about keeping the door shut while she's sleeping. So it must've happened when her so-called pee attack did.

Good thing she had a freak out. In my own freaking out, I forgot to set the foghorn. We were now already late for our English class and Chelsea wasn't even awake let alone _ready. _This was going to be awhile.

First things first. I shake Chelsea awake. I notice she is still in a little ball. I don't know how you sleep in the fetal position. Her eyes snap open on the first try, which is fricken weird. I kinda just pause and look at her, hands ready to shake her again.

"What?" she asks, still in her little ball. She's like a cat.

"Uhhh." Is all I can say.

Chelsea looks out the door and see's Kayla waving at her. Chelsea smiles sleepily in return. Her face is still creased with a pillow. "You woke up late." Kayla giggles.

Chelsea giggles back with her. "Guess so."

She was acting completely normal now. We get to work, getting ready in hyper speed like Han Solo on the Millennium Falcon. Chelsea left her straight hair alone, which is a shocker and just started putting on minimal makeup. She also just had one class of Trop 50 and we shared a pack of pop tarts today. She threw at me a white long sleeve, apparently to widen me out. Whatever that means. She wore a black one. We were out the door, practically running to the use to be white car, until we realized we forgot our school bags. I was sent back in the retrieve them while she warmed the car up. Not that it had nice enough heaters to actually do that. She just didn't want to do it. Lazy ass.

For once, I was fine with the way Chelsea drove. There weren't very many people on the road because there aren't very many people here anyways. But everyone was already at work or at school. Like we should be. I didn't even try and tell her off when she passed an old lady and almost hit the guy coming at us. For once, it was a risk I also was willing to take.

Oh God. What's happening to me?

When we got to school, Chelsea fills out a make shift late note and signed my moms name on it. We've been doing this for awhile and Chelsea is a pro at signatures. By the time it takes to get us to the office and down the hall, Geometry is half over. But Chelsea just smiles at Fuller and we sit down.

I'm pretty sure magic does exist because when my eyes lock on Jared who is sitting in the back, next to a sleeping Paul, my face transfigures into a ripe tomato. Which ever muggleborn that didn't get their letter should really leave me alone, it is seriously not the time for that. I might've had a heart attack when he so obviously brightened up and smile at me. I smile like an idiot and I probably would've even stayed standing and just staring at his beautifully dimpled face if Chelsea hadn't have grabbed my wrist and forced me into my seat.

Since this was Chelsea's closet favorite class, we didn't talk much. So I just thought about Jared. Not that that's anything new, but it was different now. Because when I looked behind me to _look at the clock_, I saw him staring me down and he smile again. OMG!

I elbowed Chelsea, and she looked at me like I had just shot her dog or something. Not that Chelsea had a dog. She didn't have any animals. That's isn't the point! She looked pissed. Never seen someone so upset to be interrupted during there Geometry problems.

"Is Jared still staring at me?" I asked, deciding that I didn't really give two fucks as if Chelsea was mad that I delayed her isosceles triangles.

"I don't know." She hissed. She only glanced at me for a second before looking back at her papers.

"Chelsea!" I whisper-yelled back. Desperate times call for desperate measures. If by desperate measures you me whisper-yelling.

She huffed and turned around, not even bothering to hide the fact that she was looking right at Jared and Paul's desk. She stared, glaring, because heaven forbid her triangles be left unattended. But her glare soon softened into amazement. "What the fuck." She was now talking with a regular voice, so a few people turned around to look at her. She didn't look worried though. Not that she ever did. She just turned to look at me and nodded, wide eyed.

I swallowed. I was consumed in happiness and fear. Boys didn't stare at me. Ever. The only thing close was them staring at Chelsea and that's it. How was I suppose to act now that_ Jared Cameron_ was looking at me, of all people. My palms were becoming sweaty. I swallowed again.

"Does your throat hurt?" Chelsea asked.

I shook my head. Most certainly not. I couldn't even feel my throat. I couldn't feel anything. Except for the need to maybe throw up or something. What Black Magic was this? That damn muggleborn back to work again on me. I took a deep breath. Calm down. Nice thoughts of beaches that actually get warm enough to wear you swim suit there. Nice and calm.

Class was over. Finally. Luckily today was art and we were working on those stupid masks again today. I guess the only good thing about Jared being gone yesterday was that I didn't have to performed the fish dance in front of him. I would've rather harpooned myself with one of the fake spears over in the corner. The whole room was decorated in old Quileute and generic native equipment. I swear we were more decked out then the museum in town.

I think I seriously peed when Jared and Paul sat down at our table. I had also become mute and the damn wizard had returned to make me mute. I swear it isn't me being a high functioning retard. I really is some dang magical person hell bent on making me seem like a total weirdo. There doing a pretty good job if I do say so myself. Damn them.

Chelsea immediately starts making fun of Paul, falling asleep on his paper mache. He makes a funny face at her and they both start laughing. I try not to look at Jared too much, but I don't think I succeed. My mask is entirely neglected and while Chelsea's is almost compete by the end of class, mine is not even half way done and still wet. Awesome. Not that art matters or anything. I just don't want Jared to think I can't even paper mache a stupid mask that we've all been doing since kindergarten. Though when I look over, I see his is barley even touched, and we he sees me looking at him he give me a little sheepish smile.

I swoon. Like, actually swoon. I'm not even really sure what a swoon is but I swear to God I do it.

After class, I clean off the stupid white residue off my hands and Chelsea and I walk to lunch. We get our 'food' and sit down against the back wall of the gym. What we don't plan on is Jared and Paul sitting with us. Like, not near us and we pretend there with us, but actually with us.

Jared Cameron is sitting with me for lunch. I can now die with no regrets.

I look up and see the lunch room just staring at us. Seriously. Paul's old friends look like there about to freak the hell out. And I would too. Paul hasn't even looked in their direction since he's been back to school. Girls like Mary Linehan are staring at us with menace. I've never really had that happen before. Even though Mary is the biggest Bitch of all time, I've never personally did something to piss her off. Chelsea obviously has but that's a different story. Other people like Jacob Black and his little posse are just giving us WTF looks. Like were some huge train wreck. Even though you see it happen, you still can't believe it.

I can't either.

"Why are you guys sitting here?" Chelsea asks.

I shit my pants. What the hell Chelsea!? She's going to alert them to the fact that their sitting with us. They'll notice and be like 'WTF are we doing here?' and get up and leave! I look at her with wide eyes, which probably means they look like a normal persons eyes.

She just give me a little smile and stares pointedly at Paul.

Paul in which takes a deep, exaggerated breath in. "Because I love you, and I can't stand to be away from you and... I don't fucking know. Ask Jared the Nazi."

I bust out laughing. Chelsea just cracks a slight smile and turns her attention to Jared, who seems to not be paying attention, because he doesn't say anything. I've been trying not to look at him, fearful of what might happen to me if I do. I swear he has some mystical powers over me. Maybe_ he_ didn't get his letter to Hogwarts and_ he's_ the secret Wizard. If so, I think I just fell a little more in love with him if that's even possible. Just saying.

When Jared still hasn't made a noise, I finally turn to look at him. And his beautiful brown doe eyes are staring right at me. I'm pretty sure my face just bursts with the heat of a thousand suns. He's just looking at me, until Paul kicks him in the shins. Which is pretty hard to do because were all sitting on the ground. Jared's head snaps over to Paul, an angry look on his face. Aww another little lovers spat. Jared the gay Wizard and Paul-

OH. MY. GOD. Jared is a gay Wizard. Jared is Dumbledore!

I bust out laughing. Hard. Not the regular type of laughing. Not the fake girl kind of laughing with a few ha ha's. I'm laughing so hard, not sound is coming out. I'm laughing so hard, there is no air coming in. I'm laughing so hard tears are forming in my microscopic eyes. I should be embarrassed but I'm laughing so hard that I don't have enough brain power to process that. I'm just picturing sexy Jared Cameron with Dumbledore's beard and a wizard cloak. Fricken Awesome!

"Is she okay?" I can hear Jared asking with a huge sense of urgency.

That sobers me up a bit and I see Chelsea, laughing her ass off. Though I'm fairly sure she's not laughing at what I was laughing at. Like a hundred percent sure. Plus she's staring right at me. She might as well have been pointing at me. Then I see Paul, also laughing his ass off, though he's staring at Jared. And Jared is just sitting there like he shit a brick, looking at me. Like I'm broken or something. Which I probably am but that's a different story.

"God Kim, you spaz." Chelsea says between laughs.

"Sorry." I mumbled, stuffing a whole brick roll into my mouth, hoping that I'll just choke to death and end my misery now.

We spend the rest of lunch in relative silence. Well I do. Chelsea is talking like always. So is Paul, every now and then, but just to say something mean about her. Like how she talks too much or something. Jared is silent too, but I don't know what he's doing. I refuse to look at him. I keep my eyes fixed on Chelsea the entire lunch time. I don't want to know if Jared is staring at me again. I'll just end up doing something really stupid. But truthfully, I don't want to see him _not _staring at me. What if this has all been an accident. Don't call bullshit. Its happened to me. Mary Linehan use to sit under the one and only clock in Mr. Benson's Physical Science class, and I'm pretty sure she told all her friends that I was some creepy lesbian. I was just staring at the clock, wishing I could sell my soul to get out of that class faster. Not looking at her and her no boobs.

Seriously, if I was a lesbian I would not be crushing on Mary Linehan.

"What are you thinking Kimmy." Chelsea asks. I look over at her and she just raises her eye brows. "You look pensive."

At first, I think about something I could say instead about thinking of who my lesbian crush would be. That would make me sound like a total weirdo and, coincidentally, might make me sound like a lesbian. Which I'm not. But then I realize that if I say that, Paul or Jared might give off some information on their possible gayness.

"Who would you date if you were a lez?" I ask her.

Paul stars laughing and I can hear Jared's sharp intake of breath and then choking noises. Turns out its not a good idea to breathe in your food.

Chelsea just smiles. "Oh, I don't know..." She scans the cafeteria. "Not Mary, she's too much of a bitch. Not Kenzie, she has no boobs. Not her. Not her..." She kind of pauses. "I don't know, maybe you Kim. You kind of lacking in anything womanly so you'd make a good like butch lesbian and I could be the lip stick lesbian."

I sigh. "I was thinking you too but I don't wanna be the guy-girl. Why can we both be girl-girls?" I ask.

"Ok, I guess that would work."

Paul starts laughing again. Hard. "Oh my god, you guys are un-fucking-believable."

"What about you Paul?" Chelsea asks.

"Me?" He says between laughs.

"Who would you date. You know, if you were gay?" She looks exasperated. Like she's dealing with a small child.

"_I told you._ I'm not gay." He looks like he's mad.

Chelsea sighs. "Neither are we. It's just a joke."

Paul blinks his eyes rapidly, like he's pretending to be a girl. "I don't know, maybe a cross between Channing Tatum and young Brad Pitt." He says is a totally gay voice. Which obviously makes Chelsea and I fall into ridiculous laughter. "What about you, Jerry-Bear?" Paul says still using is very girly gay voice. "Would it be me? Oh! I hope its me!"

Jared glares at him. He just shakes his head. A very serious face. "No." His voice is deep and dark and makes me shiver. In a good way.

The bell rings and we get up to throw our our stuff away. Then walk to Mrs. Carter's class. Which is the class I get to sit by Jared. I have the notes fully prepared and everything waiting in my book bag till we get there. I'm practically shaking in excitement. I get to sit next to Jared for almost an hour! This usually was the highlight of my day but for some reason I was even more happy. Maybe because now were actually talking and he actually knows my name now. That's always good.

We sit down and he sits down a lot closer to me then he usually would. He feels warm, a lot warmer then me. But he did just have mono not even three weeks ago, so I'm sure he's still recovering. Plus its the poor circulation. I don't know if its the pounds of diner food we consume, but both Chelsea and I are always cold. Maybe its because we live on the coast and the wind is frozen my the Pacific and it doesn't stop raining and all. Who knows.

Right away, I bust out the notes. I draw them all out of my bag and present them proudly. Notes! For you!

"Here." I say, setting them in front of him.

Jared looks confused for as second but then turns to smile at me. "Thanks Kim."

I feel my cheek bones heat up like a char broiler. Lovely. "No problem."

Mrs. Carter finally comes in and today we start regular school again. No more movie and worksheet time. Just old fashioned History class. She starts the lecturing and I bust out my text book and get to the note taking. My specialty. Writing and listening. Jared does prove to be a distraction though. He's damn fine, right next to me and just looking at me. Like all the fricken time.

By the time gym rolls around, I'm pretty fed up with what's going on around here. It's hella annoying and I don't know what his point is.

I'm so upset that during hand ball, when Embry Call bumps me a little, I freak out on him. But me freaking out is just me telling him to watch it. And its not even in an angry voice. I pretty much ask him. It's not very affective. He kind of looks over and timid smiles at me. Whatever. Damn kids lucky I'm not a bitch or I'd roast him alive right now.

My patience is wearing thin by the time were sitting through Quileute Class with Joy and Old Quil. Guess who sits with me and Chelsea. Jared and Paul of coarse. Who else? Were awkwardly talking in a language we will only ever use here on this tiny little reservation and most of the time we don't even use it! I swear I'm PMSing. I'm never usually this bitchy.

"Can you get a ride home again?" Chelsea asks while were suppose to be talking about the weather. I think the only thing we should learn in Quileute is _'its raining'_. That would suffice. Other than that we could just learn _'its a miracle_' and that would pretty much damn well cover it.

"I can." Jared says quickly. Too quickly. Paul groans and throws his pencil on the desk.

"Fuck you Chelsea." He mumbles.

"I would, but I'm busy." She snaps with a fake smile.

Busy doing someone else. I sigh. Another ride home with Jared Cameron so he can stare at me out of the corner of his eye the whole time for some strange unknown reason. Its not like I haven't been staring at him all year. Every year since the end of fourth grade.

I find myself in the rain with my purple rain jacket on and my purple rain boots, two purples that don't even match, standing out in the rain. Chelsea has a black rain jacket and cute little cheetah boots. She's pretty and off to a boys house. I'm weird looking and standing outside of Jared's truck while him and Paul argue like an old married couple though they still insist there not gay.

Like last time, Paul throws a temper tantrum and stalks off into the woods that _doesn't_ have a trail, no matter what Jared tells me. We hop into the truck and start the drive to my house. I'm sure he know the way because we just did this a few days ago. And he doesn't bother asking me for directions. So we drive in silence the whole way to my house. I don't look over to check if he's staring at me. There's no Chelsea or Paul here to rescue us from a weird stare-off that would ensue. So I just stare out the side window, watching the rain beat against it and the trees blur past.

I let myself just glance over for a moment and I see him looking straight ahead. One hand on the steering wheel. I see his enormous muscles and striking face structure. His short hair suits him, even though I was slow to see it. He has matured immensely and now looks like he could be in his mid twenties, early thirties. Very handsome. Ridiculously so. He looks over at me, sees me just staring him down like he usually does to me and smiles a little. I almost let out a little sigh when I see his dimples. I melt like puddy when those dimples come out, damn it.

As soon as we get there though, is when Jared finally starts to talk. "So who lives here with you?"

That isn't a weird question for around here. There are lots of partial families, mixed families, people living with other people and so on. Because were a Reservation its hard to build homes, buy and sell land and what not.

"My mom and my little sister Kayla." I say. "Oh, and Chelsea, I guess."

"I though she lived in town. In those trailers." he said, looking confused.

I kind of pause, not really sure what to say. "Her mom does."

Jared just nods. Surprisingly not asking why like I thought he would.

"What about you?" I ask. "Who do you live with."

"Me my mom, her boyfriend and my little sister Carly. She's three."

I remembered Ms. Cameron having Carly a few years ago. I wanted to tell Jared congratulations or something but I never did. For obvious reasons.

"But I mostly just stay at Paul's place." He says, turning away from me to look out his own window.

"Why?" I ask before I can stop myself. Mr. Lahote is kind of a jackass, so you can't really blame Paul for being a douche bag. I don't know why anyone would voluntarily live with him.

Jared just shrugs. I nod my head. It's not like I can talk. Chelsea lives with me. We even sleep in the same bed at night.

"Paul and I have... common hobbies. I guess." Is all he says.

We say goodbye and I start to climb out of the truck but he stops me. "Hey, can I text you later?" He asks. I nod. Damn cheek bones are shinning like Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. Not wonder all the other reindeer bullied him and viciously excluded him from all their activities. Shiny face extremities are so uncool.

I jog into the house and have another mini freak out. This time while I microwave pizza rolls. I don't like to wait for the oven too much time wasted. Chelsea thinks that they taste better in the oven. I can't tell the difference so I don't like to waste my time.

When I plop down in front of the TV, Big Bang Theory is on. I do my homework to a mini marathon and by the end I'm beyond ready for a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors-Lizard-Spock. Jared hasn't texted me yet so I'm bored and anxiously awaking the return of Chelsea. A few hours go by and I'm actually glad when my mom and Kayla get home. Though Shannon doesn't work tonight, so mom comes in, gets her club clothes on and dashes right out. There headed to Port Angeles, though I'm not sure why because Kayla has school tomorrow and Mom has to work. But whatever.

"Where's Chelsea?" Kayla asks for the hundredth time around eight pm and were watching Disney Channel eating grape jelly Uncrustables with fat free milk.

"I don't know." I huff.

Chelsea hasn't texted either. But since I haven't texted her about her cover story, since one was unnecessary, I guess she didn't feel the need. Kayla gives me dirty looks all night and ends up just putting herself to bed a nine. I sigh, ready to just go to bed myself. Though I know I wouldn't even be able to sleep if I tried. So I just start on a half hour shower. When I get out, I see Jared has texted me. He sent the message about two minutes into my shower. I make a mad dash to send him one back so he doesn't think I was ignoring him. Not even a moment later, he sends_ 'What's up?'_

I sequel, jumping up and down in my bathroom, my towel threatening to fall off. That bothers me even though I'm alone. I tighten it and walk to my bedroom, getting my tank top and underwear on, then grab a small blanket off my bed and sit in front of the TV watching Family Guy and Robot Chicken. All while Jared and I are texting. Which I can't really believe. We text until one in the morning, which I fall asleep accidentally. I only wake up because Chelsea's shaking me awake.

I wake up and smell alcohol. I look at Chelsea and see her drenched from the rain. Her eyes looks red and puffy like she's been crying and there's just something so _wrong_ about her.

"Oh my God. Chelse." I start, sitting up. She turns away from me, and walks into the bathroom. "Chelsea!" I yell after her. I'm too tired to realize what time it could be and if I could wake anyone up. I don't really care, though. I grab the blanket and my cell phone and walk to the bathroom but its locked. I sigh. I'm not sure what to do, so I just knock. No answer. Instead the shower turns on seconds later. There isn't really anything I can do right now so I just walk to my bedroom, remake the bed and get in. I leave the light on for Chelsea. I text Jared, apologizing for falling asleep. And then turn on the alarm clock so I don't have another episode of this morning. Then I just wait. It's another hour before Chelsea comes in.

The first things she does is turn off the lights so I can't see her. She she shuffles around in her stuff that's not yet put away. Getting a tank top and underwear bottoms in the dark from different trash bags can be difficult and she must really not want to talk right now if she's going to go through all the trouble. Then she lays down right next to me, turns to the wall and curls up in a ball.

I'm left in silence and I feel weird. And sad. Really sad. I want to talk to her. Ask her what's wrong. But I know she doesn't want me to. I want to talk to her about Jared. Go over every text we've sent and freak out about each one but I know I can't. I feel my throat tighten and my eyes prickle. I try and swallow it away, but it isn't leaving. There's something_ wrong _with Chelsea and I can't do anything.

"Chelse?" I whisper. It's so soft that I can barley hear it.

She relaxes, slightly. Her back muscles unflex but that's it. "Its okay." She whispers back in a weird shaky voice that I don't correlate with her at all.

It's not okay. She knows it and I know it. I just scoot really close to her, put my face on her pillow and lean against her. I'm not very good with talking, but Chelsea's always been there for me, so the least I can do is be there for her. I go to bed wishing that I could go back in time about two hours. Where I was just texting Jared, asking him his favorite color and stupid questions like that. That was nice.


	6. Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater

Chapter Six:

Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eaters

I slept really weird last night. I kept having weird dreams and I woke up several times. When my alarm clock finally went off, I was slow to roll over and tell it to eff off like usual. I was just laying there, wishing it would die, silently would be preferable. I wanted to sleep like a hibernating grizzly. Then suddenly the sound cut off, like one of those weird 'I know Jesus is real because... -_fill in the blank-'_ stories.

I open my eyes and look at my phone that should be on my little night stand that was really a bunch of Harry Potter books stacked on top of each other. It isn't there on the Deathly Hallows like it should be. I look over and to see Chelsea, sitting up, holding it out to me.

"Sorry, it got annoying." She said, still holding the phone, looking all nonchalant and shit.

When I didn't move to grab it, she gave a mini eye roll and lightly tossed it onto my lap. I couldn't stop staring at her. She was dressed, hair straitened and I only know this because it smells like hair spray, her hair doesn't actually look any different. All of her make up was even done. She was just sitting there, holding a glass of Trop 50 orange juice and a pack of pop tarts. She had even eaten without me, the bitch.

"Yours is right there." She nodded over to my night stand.

Her being a mind reader is just a little less insane then her being up before me.

"Kim." She said, exasperated.

Finally I turned to look over and check. I hadn't seen it when I went to reach my phone a moment ago, but it was in fact there, making a juice ring on my precious hard back copy. I went to look back at her. She was just sitting there, on top of the blankets, sipping her low cal juice without a care in the world. Well let me tell you, there were some cares in the world. Just ask any kid in Africa.

"What are you doing?" I finally ask, still just staring at her.

She looks at me, like _I'm_ the weird one. "Drinking orange juice." She talks slow, like I need it to comprehend her.

I just keep staring at her. "You should be comatose right now."

"Couldn't sleep." She smiles a weird little smile. Not a real one. Her eyes don't change. That's pretty much the only time Chelsea looks Indian. She gets all smiley and suddenly, whoops, no eyeballs. "Sorry to deprive you of a good work out. Maybe you should participate in gym." She takes a little sip or her juice. "Or get a boyfriend." She mumbles with a little smile.

Her saying boyfriend finally made me remember last night. Not that Colton was her boyfriend. Chelsea doesn't really have those. She more collects boys like Pokemon cards. But the way she acted. She smelled like booze and something was wrong with her. Not to mention it was like two in the morning when she finally got back.

"Hurry up, or you'll be late." She said as she picked up a school book and got back to work. I hadn't noticed that she had been working on her homework. But I guess that makes sense, since she hadn't done it last night.

I had never been afraid to ask Chelsea anything. But for some reason, I really couldn't figure out how to ask her what was going on. I didn't know how to ask her what was wrong with her. Whatever it was, it was still going on. She was up early. Her voice sounded funny. She wasn't even really smiling. It's like somebody was playing a part in a play as Chelsea. They knew how to move like her, and say things she would say, but it was so obviously fake. A bad review in the News Paper of Kimberly Connweller, that's fo' sho'.

I didn't say anything. I chugged down my juice, ate my quasi-pastry breakfast and got to work on myself. Chelsea had laid out an outfit for me which happened to be just jeans and a long sleeve blue T-shirt. I did my makeup and hair, which I actually had time to do today. Small miracles and all that. I got to take time on myself, instead of shaking Chelsea awake for twenty minutes. So when we left that morning, I actually felt somewhat good about myself. I mean, I know I don't look anything like Chelsea, but my skin looked even, I had teased my hair up a little so it didn't look so flat and like a dead animal. I felt pretty good.

It also helped that Chelsea was just wearing a sweatshirt. Truth be told, she looked adorable, but it wasn't her best.

Is it wrong to be happy when your pretty friend has an ugly day, just so it makes me look better? I think I might be going to Hell. Oops.

Chelsea drove even worse to school. I don't know what was wrong with her, but it was seriously insane. She drove too fast, too ridiculous. Too, _erything_! And I actually mean erything, like a black rapper. And erything. I've never been so happy to get out of a car before in my life. I've been driving with Chelsea since she bought the damn thing and I've never felt this way before. Where the hell were the Police Officers around here? Down on the fricken job, I tell ya!

My legs felt like I had been at sea for several months, like some old time-y ship cap'n. I wobbled out of the car and tried not to look too special needs in front of everyone else arriving. Chelsea hopped out looking fine as usual. I tried to stop my self but I think I called her a stupid slut internally a few thousand times.

Literally, out of know where, Jared and Paul are walking up to the building along side us. Like they're flanking us. Like sexy body guards. I can just image Jared as Kevin Costner now.

"Hello ladies." Jared said brightly. He actually said ladies. I giggled.

"You guys again?" Chelsea grumbled.

I felt like I just shit my stomach out when I looked at her. What was wrong with her? When I looked over at her to, God willing, kill her with my telepathy, I saw her smirking a little. I glanced over at Paul who was smiling! Who smiles at that? Then I glanced over at Jared for a moment and he had a little smirk on his face.

_Proverbial light bulb moment._

Chelsea was flirting!

Flirting was something beyond me. I had a hard time speaking anyways. There's not possible way that I could think up something flirty then force myself to say it and it would actually sound good. I can't make normal conversation let alone something like that.

"Well, your warm and lovely demeanor just keeps me coming back." Paul sneered at her, though still playfully smirking.

"Its not like your sunshine and rainbow kisses, Princess Paul." She shot back.

They were like this all the way to Mrs. Pelletier's class. We were in there kind of early, so we hadn't actually sit down yet.

"Chelsea can really hold her own with that ass hole huh?" Jared said to me when both Paul and Chelsea weren't paying attention.

I thought it was weird that Jared would call Paul that. I thought they were friends. But when I thought about it, they were only near each other often. They weren't very nice to each other. They didn't even look like they liked each other. They were just always walking around together, sitting together, passing notes. It was kind of weird.

I nodded, smiling a little as I saw Chelsea snap something else at Paul and him look a little taken aback. I couldn't really hear what she said, since I wasn't paying attention, but Jared started laughing. Hard.

Paul turned to glare at him. "Fuck you." He mumbled.

When Mrs. Pelletier came in, we all sat down. Since it was Friday, the school thought that meant Test Day! I'm not sure who told them that, but they should die in a really slow way. I'm glad we got here a little bit earlier then we would've, because we seriously needed seats in the back.

Because we would be cheating.

Ya that's right, cheating. What's it to ya!

I peed in my pants and prayed we wouldn't get caught, just like I did every other Friday of my whole life.

Chelsea sucked at this class. And I wasn't that amazing at Geometry. So we helped each other... cheat a little. I don't really like to call it cheating, it's more like helping out my bestest friend in the whole world so she doesn't fail sophomore English. And she returns the favor so I never have to do math ever again. It's a good system and we've never been caught. Though we can't help each other in gym or History. And neither of us really do that well in Quileute language or in music or art. I do a little better then Chelsea, but that's only because I care enough to study at home.

I swear, Chelsea would just paint her nails in school all day if I let her. She actually tried to do that Freshman year, but I quickly stopped her before she could get a detention.

You would think that school was more boring then usual because we were just testing, but I suddenly became like Sherlock Holmes, analyzing every move of everyone around me. I was like a paranoid schizophrenic, thinking everyone would notice what Chelsea and I were doing. In reality nobody gave two shits. Chelsea and I have come up with a system of communication that involved some sign language that may or may not have just been made up and not actual sign language, paired with some of our own Morse Code tapping that we also may have just made ourselves. Whatever. It was effective and most of all discreet... except when the other stuff doesn't work and we just resort to the weird mouthing of random shit or just full on whispering right in the middle of a silent test. Not the people notice us, let me reiterate the fact the people don't really care about us. If people did one day decided to care and look over, they would probably think we were both weirdos who both happen to have a twitching issue with our hands and that we both may talk to ourselves a little.

Maybe that's why Paul and Jared were trying, but failing, on hiding weird looks they were giving us.

Geez, you never seen tandem schizophrenics? What's wrong with _you_ guys?

When it got to lunch, I found myself just chilling with Chelsea, leaning up on the gym wall, feeling like a quasi-bad ass, when Jared and his little lackey Paul came to join us. In happy party. I would be clapping if I was alone right now. I have suddenly become a mute, and was busy secretly worshiping the ground Chelsea walks on for her ability to talk to the male species. Because they are in fact another species in the Book of Kim.

You can buy the Book of Kim along with the News Paper of Kimberly Connweller. Same section.

As Chelsea was amazingly using speech, I was noticing how much damn food both Jared and Paul had. Did they had like six lunches each. Its that all their muscles were. Just fat pockets to fill their food, that are just masquerading around town as sexy muscles? Seriously, how do they eat all that freaking food. Its ridiculous. Like actually ridiculous. Like teaching a monkey to ride a bike – ridiculous.

Since Chelsea and I pretty much shared a mind, she also went down that track.

"Jeez Paul, you letting yourself go there?" She snapped, she herself mowing down on two pieces of bread at once.

Paul smirked at her and picked up and amazingly tan, buff bicep and flexed. His was like an anaconda. I'm pretty sure he almost ripped his shirt. Chelsea and I both drooled a little. We were like little anime characters with the heart eyes that pulsed all weird. We were like Brock freaking out about Nurse Joy, though she was always the same in every place they went to, which was weird. But who am I to talk about a little Japanese show that's done amazingly well in the adult male population.

Jared huffed, knocking me out of my Paul induced coma, which is weird because I don't really like Paul, like at all. "Put your baby muscles away Paul." He snapped before reaching both arms up to do duel full flex, which is probably just to coax his man ego. But holy talidos it was amazing. I'm pretty sure Chelsea and I full on sighed. SIGHED. Not that I was really paying attention to Chelsea at all. I wasn't. I was kind of busy, shamelessly checking out Jared's rippling biceps. I god...

"Your an ass." Paul mumbled.

Jared laughed a little and set his arms down, shrugging. Though he did kind of look at me, like he was nervous or something. Though seemed pretty happy when he looked away. Probably my dazed eyes and my slack jaw. I'm sure his ego was a fat ass right now.

Lovely.

The rest of the day carried on like this. Paul and Jared sitting near us in every subject. Which was fine. Its not like I minded. Kind of like my childhood dream just randomly coming true. Which was fricken awesome if I do say so myself.

"So what are you doing for the weekend?" Paul asked, walking next to Chelsea.

Chelsea sighed and tapped her chin like she was thinking. "Well, we have that 'I Hate Men' party, along with our 'Women Are Superior' conference. Oh, and that pep-rally about gay parenting." She rattled off.

Both Jared and Paul just stopped in their tracks to look at Chelsea and I. Like we had just slapped them in the face. They looked a lot alike right now.

I also was looking at Chelsea oddly though.

"Kidding." She giggled. "But we do work around six. You can come over till then if you want."

…

I think I just died. Like for real died. Like, dead, died.

Did she just ask them if they wanted to come over?

O.

M.

G.

A moment later, I found myself in Chelsea's car. What just happened?

"What do you mean, what just happened? There coming over. You were right there. You heard the whole conversation." She said, pulling out of the parking lot. Without a seat belt, I noted dryly.

First off. I don't recall asking her what happened out loud. Second, I'm pretty sure I just blacked out for the ending part of that little convo. The part where they agreed to come over. Oh dear baby Jesus, I felt like I was going to puke.

"There following us there." She said over the music.

I didn't even notice that she put the music on. Yet here we are, stereo pumping to the beat of Beyonce. As we drive to my house. With Paul and Jared following.

I had to turn around in my seat to make sure they were there. And yep. There truck was a little ways back. Probably because they weren't speeding like Chelsea was. Serious. Where were the cops around here. This was getting ridiculous.

I think I started hyperventilating.

"Kim, calm down." Chelsea said, finally turning off the music. "It'll be fine. You'll do great." She coached. She was pretty good at this. She should coach little league, if we had that out here in the middle of damn nowhere. Turns out there not even enough people for little league. Or sports teams. Or for you school to even have lockers.

Though I guess there is one benefit to living with hardly any people around. You can follow a wanna be race car driver with a death wish through the city center and not get lost. I guess that's a plus. One point goes to La Push Is Great.

Though just for the record, team La Push Sucks, is kicking La Push Is Great's ass.

I'm just ganna be straight here (opposed to being gay); I was not mentally prepared when we reached my dirt drive way.

All too soon, Chelsea was hopping out of her little mental death box, that ultimately was going to be the cause of my demise, I was sure of it. She just waved, little nonchalant to the BOYS that were driving up too. Ya! That's right! Guys! At my house.

Oh, I'm ganna be sick, I just know it.

"Kimberly." Chelsea snapped. "Get out of the car."

I slowly opened the car door. I got out, rigid, head looking around like I was a little bunny, coming out of it hole. Knowing there was a hunter around waiting to blow its cute little bunny head off. Yep. That's what it felt like.

"All the way." She huffed.

Impatient.

I shut the door. Slowly. On purpose. I was trying to stall. If I spent enough time, just wasting it out here, maybe the guys can go in with Chelsea, have fun, then leave, without realizing I was out here the whole time. It could work.

"Kimberly!" She yelled.

Or not.

"Nice place." Jared spoke. He was right next to me.

Ahhhh!

I was practically running inside next to Chelsea. She laughed and walked on in. Jared and Paul also strolled right in, like this wasn't weird, at all. It probably wasn't for them, since they were, you know, normal people. But me, being a not normal person, though still being a person, but, uh... Ahh they're in my house!

Is it a bad sign if you're rambling in your head?

"Are you going to come sit down Kim?" Jared asked.

I zoned back into reality to see them just chilling in the living room. A very weird picture. Something kind of like what I wished would happen everyday since I was little. But that's not weird is it? Now that it's happened, it feels very unreal. And the fact that Chelsea and Paul are here kind of reminds me its real. Since they weren't actually included in my day dreams. Not sure why though, since where would Chelsea have gone? I guess reality makes a lot more sense.

Paul was just sitting on the ground, examining the trunk my mother tries to use as a coffee table. Chelsea and Jared were on either side of the little couch, meaning there was a little spot for me, snug right in between them. I think I visibly swallowed.

I nodded, and slowly, and I mean slowly, made my way over to the couch. This speed made getting out of the car look like the Indie 500.

"Don't take all day." Paul muttered, flipping through a Cosmo that had been on the trunk. A half naked Ashley Tisdale was on the front.

"Why don't you just shut you mouth, Paul." Chelsea snapped, grabbing the magazine from him and just throwing it over her shoulder, letting it land on the floor.

"Yes ma'am." Paul sneered in a way that said the exact opposite of what Chelsea had said.

But she just smiled in return. "So what should we watch?" She asked, reaching for the remote.

"Do I have to sit on the ground?" Paul wined, pushing the remote from her reach.

She made a little fake sad face. "Aww, does Princess Paulie little bitty butt hurt?"

Jared started giggling like a sixth grade girl.

Paul looked like he was starting to shake, when Chelsea jumped up and started walking back to where the bedrooms were. For a moment, a horrible, terrifying moment, I thought she left me alone with these two very large men. I was about to jump up and follow after her, and by that I mean go hide under my bed until they left, but she came right back, holding a pillow, with a pillow case I've never seen.

"Where did that come from?" I asked, trying to look at it again. Still didn't look familiar.

Chelsea handed it off to Paul, who didn't look very pleased, but at least not vibrating. "I got it out of the Lennon closest." She said.

Paul stopped, with the pillow behind him, arms frozen in motion. Reminded me of Jared with the pen. "Did you just say _Lennon_ closet?"

"Ya." Chelsea said, trying to reach the remote again.

"As in _John_ Lennon?" He asked, pushing the remote further away again, dropping the pillow down in the process. Which is pretty amazing, because he never took his eyes off Chelsea's face. His was the epitome of incredulous.

"_Ya_." She snapped, reaching for the remote again.

Paul finally just picked it up. "Seriously?"

Chelsea huffed. "Yes. There's a picture of him on the closet door. Got check."

She tried to grab the thing out of his had, but he was already on his feet, racing deeper into my tiny house. He didn't even have to go down the hallway. I could still see him standing there. He looked pleasantly surprised.

"Dude! They have a pic of John Lennon on their linen closet." Paul practically yelled.

"First, its Lennon closest. Second, did you just actually say _pic_." Chelsea looked entertained.

Jared laughed. "So do you like the Beatles?" He asked.

I actually didn't even know any Beatles songs. That picture was just on there for fun. Because Lennon sounds like linen. I think Hey Jude might've been a Beatles song. Its pretty good. I nod.

"Cool." Is all he says.

We didn't actually end up watching tv. Chelsea and Paul were entertaining enough on their own. Kind of hilarious. And Jared wasn't all that scary to be around with. He just sat there next to me. He didn't try and hold my hand or put his arm around me or anything scary or uncomfortable. He just sat there. And acted like everything I said was incredibly important. He made it a point to ask me questions periodically, as to try and pull me into the conversation. It was nice.

They had to leave at the same time Chelsea was most likely planning on kicking them out. They had some work to do. And we had to be getting to the dinner.

"Where are Nickie and Shannon?" Chelsea asked as she got on her supper, ridiculous tight uniform that was practically touched by the gods, just to bring in tips. If you ever wonder why Chelsea has a car, or other nice stuff, it's seriously because of the tips. Or because if that stupid uniform.

"To the city." Seattle was always just _the city._

"What about Kaykay?" Chelsea asked, zipping up her rain jacket.

"I think her dad is picking her up from school."

Chelsea made a huge face. But then tried to hide it suddenly. It was no secret that Chelsea had insane dad issues, which I wasn't really sure why. I mean, we both didn't have dads. Why did Chelsea have so much more of a problem with it then I did. It didn't really make sense. But never the less, Chelsea hated when Kayla went and spent time with her dad. It was only one or two weekends out of the whole month, but somehow that was some huge deal to Chelsea.

She didn't say anything else about it though. We hopped into the Death Trap – oops I mean Dodge, and drove our little butts to work.

Today was fun. A lot more fun then I would've expected. Jared wasn't that scary. He was pretty cool. I was excited, and I'm not even sure why because were headed to wait hand and foot on people who think we chant around fires. But I was. I was excited just about life. And that was a very knew feeling for me.


	7. Good Screams?

Chapter Seven:

Good Screams?

Work was boring. I don't know anybody who actually enjoys their work. I know people say it all the time, but I'm pretty sure there either deranged or pathological lairs. I'm pretty sure the definition of the word work really is; getting paid to do something while having zero enjoyment in it.

Chelsea was having a ball, somehow.

You know how in games, you have your little avatar, like Sims, and your going around, doing whatever. I don't actually know because I've never played video games. But you have to give them something or they'll get sick and die. You have to feed your Sims dude, or you little Tamagotchi. Well, Chelsea lives off of assholes, being assholes _at her_.

Doesn't really make sense does it? But she feeds off it. Its like a power up boost or something. So Stephanie has like no other choice then to place her by the bar. She can't actually serve alcohol since she's only sixteen, but she brings in more money with those jerks then any other waitress at the Three Rivers. And she actually enjoys that.

Its a quandary.

We worked Friday night, then we worked long hours on Saturday and Sunday. We start from Lunch to closing. Which is long and tedious. I swear, the only reason it was fun was because of Chelsea. We did a bunch of silly things while at work. Like move Stephanie's check list around when she isn't paying attention. Or when the cooks aren't paying attention, we come in and cook something completely off menu, which is a serious violation for us to even be back there. Or when we hide out in the back room and drink diet coke on slow days and pretend we're doing inventory. Long story short, its only fun because when it isn't summer, we get paid to screw around.

So I guess I should retract my previous statement about work not being fun.

Okay, give me a break. It is one in the morning Sunday night, and Chelsea and I are trying to finish all the homework we we're suppose to be doing all weekend. We just helped Stephanie close the place, got home, put in a frozen pizza, and got to town on our work. I'm afraid to admit it, but, we are cheating again. I know, I know! Its bad. But we don't have enough time to do all of it separately. So Chelsea went to town on the Geometry and Chemistry homework, and I took the time to rewrite all of my English answers in a way that Chelsea would write them so it didn't obviously look like I was cheating. And I'm sure Chelsea made a few of the harder problems wrong on my sheet. I also did the majority of a History worksheet for her, but didn't complete it. Not because I didn't have time, but because I knew that if Chelsea had done it herself. We can't really do each others creative writing exercise, so we do a pathetic little paragraph and call it good. We fall asleep asking each other Quileute vocabulary.

"What is _hah-ch chee-EH_?" I asked, mumbling through our basic little phrases.

We were laying in bed, still completely clothed, makeup still on, and Chelsea hadn't even taken her contacts out. She was rolled against the wall, blanket wrapped around her like she was going to sleep. Her rain jacket was still on.

"Good night?" She asked, though she was hardy audible. She sounded like her face was smashed into the pillow. Was she already trying to go to sleep.

"No, it was good morning._ Hah-ch uh-WAY_ is good night." I corrected.

"Ahng." Is all she said.

I huffed. "Chelsea, we learned this in Kindergarten."

"I wasn't trying to sleep in Kindergarten." She argued back.

"Yes you were." I snapped, though I was kind of laughing. "You slept through story time like every day."

"_KAY-h-kuh_." I think is what she mumbled.

I'm glad I had my notes open, so I could glance at what that was. I really did know this stuff, but since we never used it and it was so late, I wanted to double check. Definition; Go away. Wow, such a sweet friend.

"Come on." prodded her back like I was a kitty.

"Uhh," She mumbled. "_Yah-po-tahl-lee_." She said, though it sounded more like a question, like she wasn't really sure what she was saying.

I looked down again. I'm tired. The Quileute meaning for I'm grouchy was right next to it. So I could sound smart like I remembered it myself.

"More like _hay-Lah-uh-lee_." I was now portraying a very smug little smirk. Which would've been nicer if Chelsea would actually look at it.

"What's the word for bitch." She groaned, as she shifted her blankets higher.

Smug smirk was now gone.

I don't know when we fell asleep, but I woke up to Chelsea shaking me. Which was a really weird feeling. My eyes opened, though barely. They were sealed shut with mascara chunks and eye buggies. She was wrapped in a towel and so was her hair so she kind of looked like so Iraqi, especially because of her skin, which wasn't as red as most peoples around here, and her eyes were a lot bigger. Speaking of eyes...

"Why are you wearing your glasses?" I asked.

She sighed. "I fell asleep in those effing contacts, and now my eyes hurt too much to wear them." Her face was in a full on pout.

That sucked.

Why was she awake before me! I guess it's a good thing, since I forgot to set the alarm last night. I even forgot to plug my phone in, so it'll probably die while were at school. Fan-fricken-tastic. I was too tired to badger Chelsea, and we really needed to get ready and go. So we got down to business, re-made our faces, downed or fake pastry and our low calorie orange juice, and pealed out of there. I guess I can't complain too much about Chelsea's driving when it really comes in handy when were running a little late. A normal person would've been late to our first period, but not Chelsea and I. Because of her 'no-shit-giving' attitude on driving, we made it right as Mrs. Pelletier closing the door. We did an epic high five as we made our way to our desk.

I saw Jared in the back, and was hugely surprised when he waved at us. Paul just did some jack-ass head nod thing that Chelsea just rolled her eyes to. I know Paul and Jared hung out at our house Friday night, but he didn't text me all weekend, not that I'm really upset about that. I just thought that he was just trying to be friends or something. I don't really know. This is the longest relationship I've ever had with guys. And I don't even me_ relationship _relationship. I mean more like, this is the longest time a guy has spent acknowledge my existence. I smiled back, cherry red cheeks, and ducked into my desk as fast as I could.

Right after Pelletier's class, Paul and Jared came up to us.

"Hey Chelse..." Paul drawled out.

"What do you want?" She snapped, not looking at him, shoving the books into her bag.

"Can I see your glasses?" Paul asked.

What, were we in first grade again?

"No." She sighed. Chelsea then shouldered her backpack and made her way out of the class room.

"Aww come on Chelse." Paul wined like a dog and then followed after her like one. I can just picture him wagging a little tail.

Jared and I just laughed and followed behind them

The school day was boring, and yet not boring. The school part was a bore. That part where Jared and Paul sat with us whenever they could was the not boring part of it. It was rather exciting.

I loved the stupid banter that Chelsea and Paul got into. They were rather entertaining. And I loved that Jared actually paid attention to what I said. Paul did too in fact, though he acted like he didn't. It was nice to have people that actually cared what you had to say. It made me feel a little more meaningful.

That sounds pathetic doesn't it though. I'm like one of those girls that puts too much value on High School now. Great. I'm pretty much a chick off of Mean Girls. That made me physically laugh out loud in Quileute class. Me, one of those girls. That was just too far fetched.

Fetch!

I couldn't stop laughing.

"What is she smoking?" Paul laughed.

Chelsea throws a pencil at him which he dodges effortlessly. He was hardly even looking at her when he did it. Which probably takes some serious skill. Maybe they really were hipped up on drugs._ That is so fetch!_

"Yeah, but seriously." Paul muttered when I didn't stop.

"Hey Jared, I need a little favie." Chelsea started talking, even though the Atearas were giving instructions at the front of the class.

"What's a _favie_?" He asked, quietly, almost to himself.

"Can you drive little Kim-bo home for me? Pwease?" She asked, ending her please like a baby, reminding me of Khloe Kardashian.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah I can do that." He practically bounced in his seat.

I stopped laughing. And might'v shit my pants.

Spending time alone with Jared was still something I wasn't comfortable with. Actually it scared the living hell out of me. And I know, just Friday night I figured out he wasn't all that scary. But that was with Paul and Chelsea. It's different now. Now it's just Jared and Kim

Jared and Kim.

I took a deep breath. I think I can do this.

"Where are you going then Chelsea?" Paul asked, grabbing her notes away from her. Trying to bother her. But he should've known that she doesn't take notes. So she couldn't care less weather he took her blank lined paper or not.

She frowned, but she didn't try to grab it back. Because, like I said, she didn't really care. "I don't have to ask you Paulie, your not my Mama."

He wasn't. But this situation might be a little different if she did. Maybe if I did too. I haven't seen my mom in awhile, and we live in the same house.

I took a deep breath. I've rode home with Jared before. This is nothing new. And now that I know he's not a crazy gay guy out to get me, or at least I really hope he's not. Were, kind of, maybe, something like friends now, so this might even be more fun.

When school was over, and we walked out to Jared's truck, Chelsea was long gone. She had practically ran out of the building and pealed out like the little wannabe NASCAR driver she is. Then Paul threw a mini temper tantrum about walking home and just stalked off into the woods, where I know isn't a trail!

But my stomach is too full of butterflies to say anything about it. I just hop in and Jared starts driving. I don't have to tell him where to go, so he doesn't have to ask me the directions. Which means it'll be ridiulouly silent in here if we don't start talking about something. But I'm Kimberly Connweller, Queen of the Universe on awkward silences, and I have zero knowledge on how to fill them. So were kind of screwed and doomed to ride home drowning in a horrible awkward no talk zone. Just fabulous. I was starting to miss Paul and Chelsea's stupid bickering.

"So, where was Chelsea going?" Jared asked when we finally reached the most congested part of the Rez. Where the Elder's building is and the Elementary school. I look over to see if I can see Kayla's class room, just so I have something to do.

Were passing the Pool before I reply. "Um, she's going to someone's house." I all I can think of. When I finally look over at Jared, he has one eyebrow raised. Classic skeptical look. "Colton Pearson's." I mumble.

Jared looks more like horror and disbelief. "Seriously?" He asks. I nod. "Why?"

I shrug my shoulders. "No idea."

"He's not really one of the greatest guys to be hanging around with." Jared says, carefully, like he's trying not to offend me or something.

I look out the window again. "Preaching to the choir." I say softly, more to myself. I didn't really expect him to hear it but when I look over he's smiling at me.

My heart melts a little.

"During break he was trying to sell some Crystal behind Harry's store." He said, a little offhandedly. Like dealing meth behind poor Mr. Clearwater's business isn't all that big of deal or anything. He must've saw my incredulous look I'm pretty sure I had on my face because he immediately jumped to console me. "Don't worry! We took care of it."

"You?" I said. I may have accidentally said it too surprised, because Jared looked a little taken aback. Oops.

"Well, Paul and Sam too." He muttered.

I stopped asking questions. This was weird enough. Weren't they sick Spring break? If your too sick to come to school, why can go after scary meth dealers?

"Sounds dangerous." I all I say.

Jared shrugs. "Maybe for him." He then drums his finger on the steering wheel. "Anyway, seems weird that Chelsea would be hanging out that guy."

I nod.

When we drive up to the house I just say a quick thanks and jump out of the truck. But Jared gets out too. And I think I just shit out my stomach. He wanted to come in and hang out. Without Paul and Chelsea. Without _anybody_ else. Dear baby Jesus.

So we walk up to the house and in and then I'm kind of at a loss. There's not Paul to make fun of the Lennon closet, there's not stupid argument to entertain us. Were just in this little house, alone. The quiet is killer.

"Sooo..." I say, clasping my hands together. Want to play a game.

And that's house Chelsea finds us two and a half hours later. Were both laying on our tummie, playing the Monopoly Card game. There are tons of other card games and board games scattered around us but they were all discarded. We don't even notice her come in. We're just playing and suddenly -

"You guys are the only teens left alone that just start playing card games."

We start and I drop my hand on the the ground in front of us. They land face us.

Jared gasps. "I knew you had Boardwalk!" He yelled.

Chelsea just starts laughing and walks back to where the bedroom and bathroom are. Probably headed to take a shower before work time. Jared gets up and helps me pick up the games that are littering our living room, and I thank my lucky starts he didn't say anything to Chelsea about Colton. He puts them all away for me and gives me a hug, then leaves.

He actually hugged me!

After he shuts the front door, before his truck starts, I'm running down the tiny little hallway. I burst into the bathroom, where the shower is running. Chelsea lets out and ear splitting scream and I start screaming on impulse also. Though it takes me a sec to realize she screaming at me.

"Chelsea!" I yell.

"What!?" She screams back.

"He hugged me."

Her head immediately pops out behind the shower curtain. Her glasses are off, but I'm not sure if she finally put her contacts back in or she just took them off for the shower. "Seriously?" She asks.

I nod.

She starts screaming, again. Happy ones this time. So she is wearing the contacts. I scream as well. Happy screams too. That's about the time that my mom and Kayla open the bathroom door. They both still have their rain jackets and boots on. Kayla still has her backpack on as well. They must've just got here.

"We heard screaming." My mom says, just looking at me and Chelsea kind of weird.

"Happy screams." I explain.

She just nods. Though not in an understanding way. Kind of like, she just doesn't really care to know anymore. My mom's kind of like that. If were not dying, she doesn't really need to be involved. And we weren't dying, so now her duties are complete. My mother in a nutshell. Sigh.

After Chelsea and I are ready for work, were about to walk out the door. "Hey, there's no food here so were coming their for dinner again."

"Ok!" I yell as we leave, just Chelsea looks pissed about it.

When we get into the car, and Chelsea's driving like a maniac as usual, I finally ask her about her mom. "So what's with it." I ask after turning off the music.

"With what?" She asks, evasive, and she reaches to turn it back on.

"Chelsea." I block her hand. "What's going on with you and your mom?"

She just sits back into her chair, and she wont look at me. Which might be a good thing, because at least now she's looking at the road. Then she just shrugs. "Mad at her." Is all she says.

"Why?" I ask.

She just shrugs again. All of the sudden, she's parking and hopping out of the car. She doesn't say anything else to me about it and just walks in. I sigh and follow after her.

When our family comes to eat, Chelsea just walks over for a moment. "Hey, nobody else will work the bar, so you just go have dinner." Then walks off before I can talk to her about it.

So I have to sit with Kayla, my mom and Shannon and just eat without her. Which I'm tired of doing. Stuff without Chelsea. It's getting old a little. But when work is done and we drive home and go to be, I don't say anything. Because I know it wont do anything.


	8. Human Leg Origami

Chapter Eight:

Human Leg Origami

Things have been really weird lately. Paul and Jared have hung out with us every evening for a week. I can't wrap my brain around it. Paul and Jared are good looking. Like_ extremely_ good looking. And Chelsea and I are normal. We just look _normal_. And we do normal things. Were just boring.

And yet, every night they decided to hang out with us.

"Were going to the store tonight." Chelsea told them as we walked out of the school building.

I frowned a little bit. Yes, I did think it was weird that two attractive guys wanted to spend their free time with Chelsea and myself. But that didn't mean I just wanted them kicked to the curb. They'll realize in their own sweet time that were not that fun to hang out with, and then they can leave. Why would we send them away before that?

Sometimes I just want to shake her.

Paul just shrugged and started walking towards Jared's truck, but Jared looked kind of mad. "Why can't we come?"

Paul dropped his bag on the ground. "Ugh."

Chelsea put her hand on her hip and raised her eye brow. Making her look just like her mom. "You want to come with us to Forks for grocery shopping?" She sounded a bit scary, like she was interrogating.

"No, we don't." Paul wined, leaning on another persons car.

"Yeah." Jared said, innocently enough. He even added a little shrug

Chelsea stood their, looking skeptical and finally nodded. "If you drive."

Jared smiled at me as he turned on his heels to head to his truck. I could see Paul whining about it as I scrunched myself into the passenger seat. The car was turned on and the music blared as we started out of the parking lot before I could get my seat belt on, so I hit the dash board more then once. But all that couldn't clear my mind. It's been bothering me all week.

Jared does those little smiles. He's always smiling at me, or looking at me when I'm not looking at him. I can't figure out why. But he does it all the time. He also just starts talking to me out of nowhere, about anything. And everything I say, he always pays really close attention.

We get to the house and Chelsea runs in for our wallets and I carry our backpacks to our room, since were waiting for the guys to get here. It does take them a minute or too longer since they drive like actual sane people. But when they do get here, were ready.

I can hear Paul and Jared arguing as our rain boots squeak in the mud.

"Why do I have to sit in the damn back seat." Paul growled.

Jared just rolls his eyes and looks like he's going to say something mean back but his eyes catch mine, and his face softens. Instead he just smiles at me in that really weird way. Like he's been waiting for me for a while and I've just showed up, when actually we've been at school all day together.

Chelsea cuts me off. "I call shot gun." She smiles. Her pretty long hair is peaking out of her rain jacket hood, she has it pulled up over her head all the way, but because of the long hair she still looks pretty.

I, on the other hand, look like a boy with my messed up short hair poking out of my hood.

"Sorry Princess," Paul sneered at her. "The special seat is reserved for the one and only Kimberly. So you can just get your pampered little ass in the back."

Chelsea sneered right back. "Assholes first." She bowed her head a little, with her arms sticking out from her pockets like she was ready to do the chicken dance.

Paul started going off on how it wasn't fair that he had to sit behind Jared, when I started shivering. I decided to get into the warm started truck and left the two little children bickering in the rain. I thought it was weird though that I was sitting up front. It would've been fine for Paul to sit up front and for me to sit with Chelsea. I got in and buckled my seat belt and looked over at Jared. Who was smiling brightly at me. He might've even been bouncing in his seat.

Yeah, like I said, he's a little weird.

It took almost ten minutes for Chelsea and Paul to get into the car. And Paul did end up sitting behind Jared. He was so squished his knees looked next to his ears. He reminded me of those tiny clown cars, when they back them chuck full of clowns. Paul spent the entire drive to Forks whining about his leg room. Chelsea decided to extend her tiny midget legs so far that they bumped the back of my seat and her gorgeous little triumphant grin made it all better. Even though I like to think myself above those little childish antics, I couldn't keep a smile off my face.

Jared looked particularly annoyed, but just at Paul and Chelsea. When I looked over at him, gave me a little smile. I looked away shyly.

Chelsea pushed the cart around the whole time. And somehow produced a shopping list. I know my mom didn't make it, so it had to be Chelsea's own one. I don't even know when she make it. Probably during creative writing. She was the master of this whole endeavor, as usual. But this time, instead of me being the manual labor, Jared was her knew little slave. Paul dragged behind us crying about how hungry he was, so Chelsea grabbed a box of Dora the Explorer fruit snacks off the shelf, ripped them open and handed him one.

"Ohh, eating without paying." Paul practically giggled.

Chelsea rolled her eyes. "I'm _going_ to pay for them."

Paul didn't really look like he was listening because he was busy shoving every fruit snack in his mouth at once. "Fank ooo." He mumbled mid chew.

I half expected him to ask to ride in the cart, like all little kids do.

It took us forever to get everything done, and I kind of felt like dead weight. Jared was doing my job, and I was just hanging back with Paul as he devoured the Dora fruit snacks. The only time Jared even paid attention to me is when I laughed so hard I thought I was going to pee my pants when Chelsea withheld a fruit snack until Paul said please and thank you.

It took us a long time until we were finally done. Chelsea and I stood in front of the frozen doors in the freezer section. Inside lay a new found breakfast item.

"This could change everything Kim."

"I don't think it will." I said rather blandly.

Chelsea nodded, looking inside the doors at the frozen box. "Were moving onto a huge new chapter in our lives. This is a whole new beginning an new responsibility. Are we ready for this Kim?"

I could hear Paul and Jared snickering behind us, watching silently.

"There just toaster strudels." The tone of my voice matched my eye roll.

Chelsea finally looked away to. "Just toaster strudels?" She shook her head. "Were going to have to get up earlier for this you know. They'll be frozen, and you have to ice them yourself. Are you ready for that? What if Nickie and Kayla eat 'em all? Huh? Then what? You create this bond, can't wait to get one, and then BAM! We find an empty box left in the freezer. Then what do you do Kim? What do you do?"

I can hear the boys full on laughing now.

"So, do you want to get them or not?" I try to say with as much patience as possible.

"Oh yeah, were definitely getting them." She opens the door, letting the cool air out and grabbed two boxes, one in Raspberry and Strawberry and threw them in the cart full of diet soda cases, white bread, peanut butter and jelly, frozen pizza and an empty fruit snack box.

Yeah, were pretty much the epitome of white trash, except were not white.

We paid and left, letting the guys load all the bags into the back. The truck bed didn't have a tailgate anymore, so Paul was going to be even more squished on the trip back.

But when Jared was loading the last bag in, Paul reached over and tugged on the lanyard hanging out of Jared's jean pocket. Before Jared could grab him, Paul kind of pushed me into Jared's way and booked around the front, hopped in the drivers seat and locked his door. No sooner had I regained my balance, Chelsea slid into the front and shut her door with with a big grin. The back door was still open, so I could hear them giggle to themselves. Chelsea and Paul stuck their tongues out at us through the window.

Jared looked like he was about to be angry, but then in a moment, looked to me and then tiny back seat and was suddenly smiling. He hopped into the back, pushing the bags over to the other side. He looked even more cramped then Paul had, but Jared was giving me she cute little dimple grin that made me weak in the knees. Even though he was now enormous, he had somehow scooted far enough over to get me the side seat, right next to him.

"Kim, did you forget how to get into the car again?" Chelsea called from the front seat.

I sighed and hopped into the truck.

And then I froze. Jared and I were pressed against each other when I shut the door. Didn't matter how much I pressed myself against the door, the manual window crank bruising my leg, we were still so close I could feel the heat radiating off him. Maybe because I was just so cold, but he felt incredibly warm. Cozy almost. Like a blanket right out of the dryer. I could wrap my myself up in him.

…

Did I seriously just think that? Yeah, I'm embarrassed of my own thoughts. Good going Kimberly. You have now reached maximum Prude proportions.

My throat felt a little tighter, and my heart was beating so fast it was hitting my chest. I had to distract myself. Maybe we could start a conversation that would take us all the way back to the Rez. That would be perfect. Politics maybe. But none of us knew enough to make it an actual discussion. Something else...

Paul had already started up the truck and was racing it down the parking lot. Him and Chelsea were high-fiving about something, probably their shared horrible driving habits.

"Lets crank this bitch up." Chelsea muttered, turning on the radio.

"Please don't pick something stupid." Paul begged. When Lady Gaga filled the silence, his facial expression was kind of hilarious. "Nice choice Chelsea. You really know how to pick 'em."

"Don't even start with me Paul -"

The music was blaring. I could barley hear Chelsea and Paul bickering over it like children. But it was almost like white noise. The sound of my ribs breaking under the strain of my heart bashing it over and over, paired with the mantra in my head on a loop going 'OMG OMG OMG OMG' over and over, I barley heard anything. We weren't even on the highway yet and I was hot. I was sweating. I leaned my face onto the glass, but I still didn't cool down and I didn't get any farther away from Jared.

I could feel his arm, pressed up against me uncomfortably. I wouldn't let myself think about how much easier we would fit if his arm was around me. I couldn't. I'd probably implode or something. I couldn't look up at his face either, that would also be too much. I felt like my heart was eighty years older and at any moment it would give way of this stress.

To relax myself, I just kind of stared at the ground. And I saw Jared's legs crushed up against the seat and his chest. He was seriously squished in here. My legs started to ache for just looking at him. They looked like some demented origami thing. But when I looked up into his face, he only gave me that weird little smile I always seem to get.

Here I was, freaking out about being too close to him, and he was pretty much acting as an amateur contortionist. My knees could touch the back of Chelsea's chair, but it was nothing like Jared.

I kind of felt like a bitch.

I couldn't help but still freak out as we drove home though. I mean, Jared and I were _right next to each other_. We've never been this close. I guess he's hugged me once or twice, and he stands near me a lot, but not like this. The whole sides of our bodies are pressed together. We weren't even this close when we sit on the couch.

When we drove into La Push, I was still freaking out, until I realized that we were about to get out of the car. My inner chant changed from Valley Girl 'Ohmigod' to 'NOOOOOOOOO'. How could it be over so soon. I've never been this close to him. Ever. Never ever.

Yes, I do realize that I sound kind of crazy. But I'm a teenage girl, I shouldn't be anything else then straight crazy. And I completely was right now. Here I was, crapping a brick about being so close to him, and now I'm singing the blues about it almost being over. Yep, mother effing crazy.

We did eventually arrive at my house. It was a little bittersweet as I hopped out of the squeaky truck door. Especially because is was freaking cold outside. Jared and Paul grabbed all the bags out of the back, and like usual, Paul was the only one boisterously complaining.

"How come you drag us on this stupid trip, and make me carry all your stuff." Paul whined at Chelsea.

"You ate all of our fruit snacks." She pointed out as the started making their way to the house in front of Jared and I.

"Please, your straight crazy."

Chelsea gave one of her weird laughs she does when nothing is actually funny. "Better then being gay crazy."

"What, you saying you hate gay people?" Paul asked, though it was more in a joking tone. They both walked into the house and into the kitchen, Jared and I walking a few steps behind. Just watching them fight.

Chelsea had taken her hood off and was now flipping her hair over her shoulder in that lovely way people can only do with long hair. "My moms gay."

Oh no.

"What?" Paul asked, almost dropping a case of Diet Mountain Dew on the ground.

"Yeah, with Kim's mom." She said all nonchalant.

Oh fan-fricken-tastic Chelsea.

"Really?" Jared asked, right near my ear.

I almost jumped. I was listening to Chelsea and Paul that I almost forgot about Jared. Like if that was ever possible to actually forget about him. But he did surprise me.

"Um," I gave a little nervous laugh. "No. It's just this funny joke." As I said it, I realized it didn't sound all that funny to somebody else.

We were all cramped into the little tiny kitchen. The bags were randomly placed on the open counter space and the floor. Paul was leaning on the stove, looking at the side of a cereal box that had little games decorated on the cardboard. Jared was leaning against the fridge, right next to a crooked photo of Chelsea and I playing at the beach when we were little with a flip flop magnet. Chelsea and I were the only ones actually putting stuff away, but we were severely hindered by the two large Quileutes blocking our path. It was a tiny kitchen.

Even though it was small, Jared felt a little far away from when we were in the car.

"Chelsea! Chelsea guess what -" Kayla came screaming in but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the extra people just standing there in our undersized kitchen.

I almost jumped when I heard her yelling. Since I hadn't heard the door open.

She was holding out some piece of paper, and it looked like she had been while she was outside as well, because there was little rain drop marks, making the white a little see through in those spots. Chelsea walked to the door, Paul following close behind her. Then my mom walked in.

Everybody was kind of quiet, I think the guys were just waiting to see how my mom would react. But she kind of just stood there, really confused.

"Why are there large scary boys in our house Mom?" Kayla finally whispered.

Paul and Chelsea started laughing really hard, but I was still watching my moms face.

"Hi Mrs. Connweller." Jared waved, looking almost nervous.

"Oh, puh_lease_ don't call me that. I'm not Mrs. _anything_. Its Nickie." Mom spoke, exaggerating her words way too much.

"Uh, okay, Nickie." Jared said her name like he had just ate something bad. Most older people on the Rez preach respect like its a religion, so I guess calling my mom Nickie would be kind of weird for him. Not everyone was raised like Chelsea and I.

"Look, I drew our family. Its me and you," She said pointing near the front where the two pink stick figures are, "Then Kim's over there," She pointed near the edge dismissively. "And look. Mom and Shannon are holding hands." Then she fell into a fit of giggles.

Wow, I'm by myself in the picture. Lovely.

"Wow, your mom's really are gay." Paul looked completely astonished.

Only because finding out new things is kind of a novelty on a tiny reservation. We all live close, and theirs hardly any of us. I don't know that last time I found out some exciting information. Well, except for my childhood crush wanting to spend all his time with me. That's kind of new.

My mom rolled her eyes and finally shut the door behind us. "We _aren't_." She huffed.

Chelsea just laughed and walked to the fridge and hung up the picture with a totem pole magnate. Right next to some of our school portraits and a calendar from last month.

"There not ready to go public just yet." She muttered.

Mom just put her hands on her hips. "Shouldn't you girls be getting ready for work?"

"Yeah, Paul and I should be leaving too." Jared spoke. Paul shrugged his shoulders and started heading for the door.

I didn't want them to leave. But I waved goodbye as the walked out into the rain.

"Well, that's new." Mom looked at me with a little twinkle in her eye. "When did this start happening?"

I was angry. "We've been hanging out with them for three weeks." Okay, slight exaggerations, but I was really mad.

My mom didn't know shit. Why would she finally start acting like she cared when we just got back from buying our family groceries. If she cared, she would know what were doing all weekend. Or know what were doing after school, or even at night when she is here. She doesn't know anything about me or Chelsea. Well, especially not Chelsea, but that's only because I've never hung out with other people until recently.

Mom scoffed. "Why am I the last to know."

"About what? This or everything else in my life." I shot back.

"Excuse me? What is that suppose to mean?" She raised her voice.

Chelsea walked out of the kitchen and grabbed Kayla. She was still standing in the living room area where she could see it all go down, but it was nice of her remove Kayla from the situation sort of. That only made me more angry.

"You don't know anything." I finally yelled.

"What don't I know?" She threw her purse on the counter, then hand on the hips.

"Anything."

"_Anything_?" She mocked.

"What did Chelsea and I do yesterday night?" I snapped. It wasn't really said as a question, more like an accusation.

"Well, you were" she started to stutter, all awkwardly.

"What's Kayla's favorite movie?" I jumped on her before she could finish her half-ass response.

"Jesus Kim, its one of those dumb princess -"

"Who taught me how to ride a bike?" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

My mom just stood there looking at me. "How does that have to do with any of this?"

"Do you know when?" I could feel my throat tightening, like I was about to cry. "What about Kayla? When did she learn?"

My mom just threw her hands up in the air, like she was completely exasperated. "I don't know? I'm working."

"I work almost the same amount of hours as you." I whispered. I was afraid to talk out right now, just in case my voice cracked.

I turned around and walked straight back to my bedroom. Chelsea followed close behind with Kayla acting as the little caboose to our train. It was completely silent now. Eerily so. Living with all girls, you don't usually get silence. But now you could hear the constant tapping of rain hitting the window.

We got ready quickly in our usual attire, Chelsea adding a bit more makeup on. I just wanted to leave. Kayla sat on the bed, just watching us. I felt bad that we had to leave her hear. Especially on a weekend that she wasn't going to her dads.

"Should we take Kayla with us?" Chelsea asked, looking over at me, who was looking at Kayla.

Kayla giggled and bounced a little up and down on the bed.

I nodded. That was the best idea. Now Kayla wouldn't have to deal with my mom ignoring her or her acting mean from the argument _I_ started. Mom hardly noticed that Kayla was walking out with us. When she did, she pretty much just said by to Kayla.

Work wasn't as lame as usual, since we took three times the amount of brakes as normal so Kayla wouldn't feel too upset. Stephanie didn't mind, since some of the other waitresses have done it before. Plus, it wasn't summer yet, and their were only a few other people in here that we personally knew. Even though it was a weekend, the only person sitting at the bar was Paul's dad. So Chelsea spent a lot of her evening with Kayla instead.

Near the end of the night, we were all sitting in the booth. There was a stack of finished child menus that could be colored on next to Kayla. She was working on a third plate of cheese fries and looked tired, board and about to throw up. Chelsea had a glass full of ice and maraschino cherries, then filled with diet coke. She was eating her drink with a spoon.

"Why are you eating ice?" I wondered allowed, sipping my drink. My hands were getting cold and damp from grasping the outside of the glass, but that's pretty much the feeling you get of living in this place so it's not like I really minded.

Chelsea shrugged a little. "Dunno." She spoke through a full mouth as she leaned back on the cracked upholstery chairs. "Tastes good."

I shook my head a little, laughing. "Ice doesn't taste like anything."

"Shuttup." She mumbled. She put her arm around Kayla

"Are you tired?" I asked, drumlin my fingers on the table.

She nodded.

"Sooo, you got to ride in the back with Jared..." Chelsea teased.

I'm sure my face was beat red because it felt like it was on fire. I turned to glare at her, only because I thought she wasn't really paying attention to me. But she was now sitting up, leaning on an elbow, chewing a cherry. Which she then spit out from laughing at my blush. She didn't have to say why, I've known her for so long. But she did anyways.

"Your, face," She some how got out in gasps of breath.

I frowned.

But when Kayla started laughing, I did too. We laughed so hard, Stephanie came over to tell us to quiet down, but then instead just said we could go home early. She was cutting off Mr. Lahote anyways.

When we got home, my mom wasn't there. Instead, we cooked a frozen pizza and sat down on the couch all together and put in Beauty and the Beast. Just because it was Kayla's favorite movie. Is it fair that my mom ignores me? No. But could I have it a lot worse off? Yes. I don't have any actual parent problems like Chelsea did. In fact, my mom was the only one around, and she was usually pretty easy to deal with. I had a home and friends, or whatever you called Paul and Jared. I didn't know how long all that was going to last.

But sitting on the couch with Chelsea and Kayla, my two sisters, made me realize that I was kind of lucky. Not many people had a Chelsea. Or even Kayla, even though she draws me on the edge of family art work. I was cuddled up with a peperoni pizza, a Disney movie, and my two favorite people in the world. Couldn't that make up for everything else?


End file.
